


Why Would You Do That?

by RealBrill



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Child, F/M, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Smut, Tags as we go, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 57,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6970267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealBrill/pseuds/RealBrill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a simple thing, really. There was no reason to be upset to the point that you would hit your partner. What a cruel thing to do to someone who loves you. Especially not acceptable in front of your child, so what's your excuse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mikayla

"Are you sure about this, Jack?" Mark asks, running over all the possibilities and outcomes that would result. It wasn't his idea, but he was never opposed to it, either. At least it felt that way to him.

Jack grips Mark's hand in his, running his thumb over Mark's knuckles, and says, "Yes, Mark. How many times yer gonna ask that?" He gives off a little laugh, repeating himself once again. He's been giving Mark the green light for days, and yet Mark didn't get it.

"Alright, let's go," Mark detaches himself from his partner's warm hand-- though he didn't want to, he'd rather stay in the car-- and takes the keys from the ignition, putting one of his fingers through the ring.

***

The woman pushes the door open with her left hand, and allows for both Mark and Jack to take a look at all of the children that inhabited the room. "Now, these are kids that range from newborn to five months. How do those ages sound?" She asks, but they weren't what the pair had their eyes on.

"Would you have any around three to five?" Jack asks, and it sounded as though he had that age set in the beginning. Though, a new baby would be a mess for a couple that's looking for a first time.

"Oh! Of course. They're upstairs." She uses her right hand to motion them toward the stair case to the left of the double doors they just looked in.

The walk's short, but it didn't seem like so. The awkward quietness felt out of place. The two men about to see older children felt out of place. If anything, they felt like a pair of gold fish in a pond of Koi. Every couple there were straight, and a few gave Jack and Mark weird looks. It wasn't odd for two men to be here, but if the wandering eyes meant anything, then it was the opposite.

"Is there any specific child you're looking for? Female or male? White, Asian or black? Preferably white?" The woman asks before they reach the top step. It was quite visible that she was smiling-- something that didn't leave her face, yet. It was like the corners of her mouth were nailed.

Exchanging looks between them, both of them knew exactly what was to be assumed, but Jack spoke anyway, "Wha' does it matter?" The lady just looks back, with a questioning look. "The extra comment wasn' necessary. Only one of us is white, anyway."

"I'm sorry, I just figured that you would want a white child, because you both look white," she fakes some concern and regret. But just before Jack could reciprocate, the pushed open the door to room they need to get to. She pushes open the door, letting both Jack and Mark pass her, and look around the large room.

Jack smiles, and looks at all of the happy children playing and running. It dwells on him that he was here. He was about to take one of these kids back to him residence, with his boyfriend. It was crazy to think of it, because they weren't even into their 30s, yet they were gonna take a small human into their household. It took Jack some time to wrap his head around the entire thing, and let the idea fade into realization. Though the--

"Do you have your mind set on any particular child here?" The woman asks, while she flashes that terrible smile at Mark, briefly making him feel uncomfortable under her pedophilic gaze.

Moving forward to be closer to Jack, and ignoring her question, he pulls Jack towards him, and says, "Have you picked out a kid, yet?" he wraps his arms tightly around Jack's slim waist, and hoists his chin up into the inviting space between his shoulder and neck.

The Irishman kept sweeping the place with his eyes, looking for any suitable kid that would suit them the best. He lands on one playful boy, with some toys. Although he wasn't doing a very good job with building, he was having fun. Pointing to the small child, "Le's go see 'im. I kinda like 'im." Mark only nods, and follows Jack's path.

The kid looks up at Jack and Mark, smiling, and then continues to play. Sitting down, Jack looks at the toys, then back up at Mark. He was still standing, so Jack reaches up to grab his digits, and pulls him down to make a good impression. There was no way the boy would like them if they came off rude.

He looks up, and offers one of his toys to Jack, and Jack happily takes it. "What's your name?" he asks, never looking up from is play things. "My name is Jake."

"Mine is Jack, and his is Mark," Jack smiles, and he feels a connection already.

"Are you two like... best friends?" Jake now looks up, and pokes his tongue through his lips. "Do you both live together?"

Exchanging looks yet again, the two look back down at the boy. "Oh, yes, we live together." Jack intertwines his fingers through Mark's. "But, we're more than best friends."

"Extra best friends?" He laughs, and now all three of them laugh this time. "Only extra best friends stay together."

"No, we stay together because he's my boyfriend," Mark responds bluntly, and the boy looks at both men with a confused look.

"But, you're supposed to have a girlfriend," the boy didn't look to interested in what was said too much after that.

The redhead sighs, and stands up. "I think that's enough for today, Jack." Mark tugs Jack upwards, since their hands never unlocked. He didn't wanna go too far into conversation with this boy, as it seems his parents did a terrific job already, before they brought him here. Of course, Mark still felt the future homophobia reaching him from 15 years in the future.

Getting close to Mark, only enough for those two to hear, Jack whispers, "Mark, ya can't be rude like that t' a kid," Jack harshly says. Mark was never a rude person, but homophobia was something he never liked, and Jack knew that. If only Mark knew when to keep it inside, and not allow for his bluntness to flow into society, like a broken dam.

"Jack, he was rude to me, first," Mark says, not believing how Jack just stood up for this boy, over his own boyfriend.

Paired up, they both began to leave the presence of Jake, but Jack still said his goodbyes to him. Mark however, didn't give him a second glance. That was the first child they got to know, and Mark's already tired of being here. He didn't wanna adopt-

"Excuse me," a tug was on Mark's leg, which stole his attention away in a second. A little girl, who wasn't the tallest, smiles up at him. She was black, he assumed, only lightly colored. Her hair wasn't lengthy, but that seemed to be an illusion, with the curls she possessed. "You dropped this," she holds up Mark's phone.

Taking the phone from her small hands, Mark thanks her, "Oh, thank you, dear," her smile seems to be contagious, as one spread itself across his face. He didn't wanna make it obvious, but this was one kid that he could get behind.

She says a small 'welcome' and walks back to wherever she came from, taking both of the mens gazes with her. They watch as the girl sits down at a table by herself, and begins drawing.

Jack catches Mark's eye, and the same thought transferred between the two. Gesturing his head toward the curly que, they retrace her steps.

They're finally at the table, and both men look down to examine the drawing she were working on. On the surface, it looks like some cats.

"What are you drawing?" Jack drops down to her height, and gets a closer look. Mark follows his stance with no problem.

She drops her crayon, and purses her lips. "I'm drawing my friends as animals," her laugh sounds, "But so far, we're all kitties."

She was a fun one, already, Mark concludes. He knows he likes the girl, and so does Jack. The Irishman already knew Mark liked her, the second she smiled at him.

"You've got an imagination," Jack sits his hand on the back of the chair she sits in, and watches her draw for a little bit longer.

Noticing something, Mark asks, "Who are they?" He points to the only dog and cat on the paper-- as she said kitties, not cats.

Glancing up at Mark, and then at Jack, she says, "Oh!" And picks up two separate crayons. She placed the red one over the dog, and drew a few scribbles over it, then did the same with the green one, but over the cat. After that, she sits both down, smiling up at both.

Mark and Jack both could feel their hearts soaring. As odd as it was, this had happened, and they love it.

***

"'M sorry if ya don't like yer room, we jus' didn' know who we'd bring home, so we didn' color it," Jack holds the girl, Mikayla, on his hip, while standing in the decorated, white room.

"I love it!" Mikayla stares around the vicinity, and Jack puts her down. She runs to prop herself up on the bed, and falls back in the covers, wrapping herself up.

The laugh that echoed itself around the room came from Jack, as Mark came through the door, bringing anything Mikayla owned from the place.

"I take it that you like your room?" Mark sits on the bed as well, but not before he sat her things next to it.

"She said she loves it," Jack grins, and so far, he loved her, too. As he watched Mark bond and talk with the girl back at the agency, he found out that she was four, and her last name was Johnson. Her favorite color was teal. No, she never said teal, but she pointed to it, and she loves cats. That was it, and they loved the way she was acted. That was the selling point, and now they were here, at home.

"Jack?" The deep voice shook Jack out of his thinking, and he pays attention to it.

"Huh?"

"Are you up for going to the park?"


	2. Swing of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikayla is unaware.

Since no one even thought about it, they had to run to the store and get a booster seat for Mikayla the next day. Who would have thought that a four-year-old would need a safety seat in the back? 

Mikayla casually swung between Mark and Jack, clasping tightly onto their hands. Her feet barely touched the ground, as the two men brought her to and fro. Mikayla was very outgoing, as she had grabbed both of their hands, and brought her feet up, almost pulling them down, and also surprising them. 

"Okay, Kayla, m'arm is gettin' tired," Jack slows down his movements, and Mark follows suit. "Can we do this later?" He slowly tries to let her down, making sure that her feet were on the ground, before stopping completely. "'Ll hold yer hand, if ya like?" He looks down at Mikayla, as she nods quickly, pulling both her new parents farther towards the isle that caught her eye.

    "What 'bout this?" Mikayla lets go of both  their hands, and runs towards an isle filled with toys, primary Barbies, and all things pink and white. She even bats an eye at some of the dinosaurs and toy cars. A tea set finds its way into her hands, and she puts her best smile on, while catching the gazes from both men. 

    "No, Kayla we brought ya here to get yer booster seat," Jack sighs. Though Mikayla was loved, it would have to wait until another day. 

    "You want that one?" Mark speaks up, disregarding Jack's comment. 

    Jack looks at Mark with disbelief, "Mark, I jus' said 'no' t' her."

    "But, Jack!" Mikayla stretches out the vowels, and does her best pout, while still maintaining her cuteness. 

    "But, Jack!" Mark says this time, mimicking the girl's words and actions. Jack was nowhere near immune to begging, and his lover knew so. 

    Instantly, Jack sighs again, and lessens the tension in his shoulders. Looking away from both of them, and then from Mikayla to Mark, and then back to Mikayla, he says, "Mark..." Silently pleading that he wouldn't keep asking him about it. Unfortunately, he could still see the hope in both their eyes, and the begging wouldn't end as quickly as he'd like for it to. See, Mark just knew that Jack was as generous as could be, so if he refused something, it could easily be overrun by asking many times, or even once more. Such a bad feat-- isn't it? 

    Mark gets rid of all the extra space between him and Jack, wrapping his left arm around his waist. Ever so sweetly, his lips meets Jack's for a few seconds before he pulls away. That leaves space for Jack to lie his head on Mark's chest. Sharing some innocent PDA was never a problem. 

    "Fine," The irishman rolls his eyes, backing up from Mark, and looking at him with disdain. 

    Long story short, the booster seat wasn't the only thing Mikayla got that day.

***

    "Mark, ya know how I am with beggin'," Jack thinks of what happened earlier that day, and it makes him regret caving in, like he always does. 

    "Yes, I know. But that's not what you usually say in bed, though," Mark laughs, adjusting Jack's seat on his lap. 

    "Yeah, but 'm not the one who's usually doin' it, so," Jack rises from his partner's confines, and decides to get under the covers instead. 

    Currently, Mikayla is sleeping in her room, after tuckering herself out from all the new toys she received. Jack and Mark tucked her in and said 'goodnight' in the best way possible, before retreating back to their own shared room. They had already changed, and the last piece of the puzzle was to actually get in the bed and sleep, until Jack wanted to talk about the most recent events. 

    Mark does the same as Jack, lifting the white comforter up to put himself under it. Although sleep was on Jack's mind, Mark has the opposite running through his. Once Jack settles and gets comfortable, Mark ruins it by gripping his lover by the waist, and pulling him closer. 

    "Fer a second I thought we wouldn' cuddle t'night..." Jack trails off, as Mark puts several kisses to his neck, and gently runs his fingers over his hips, lightly ghosting over the skin. "Mark... I..." Now Mark's going just a little bit lower, until his fingers are just above the waistband of Jack's pajama pants, not once ceasing his dots of kisses littering Jack's neck. 

    A knock on their door, and seeing it open,  causes Jack to leave his haze, and pay atttention to the little body speaking, "Can I sleep with you tonight?" 

    Even though a child entered the room, Mark never stops teasing. Although he stopped kissing Jack's neck, he had slipped his hand inside of Jack's pants, so far. Keeping it as low-key as possible, Mark gently presses his hand down on the warmth beneath it. 

    Jack lets out a soft moan, but swallows any extra back down, in favor or responding back to his child. "Not t'night, okay? What about t'... Morrow?" He successfully kept his composure, but he spoke too soon.

    Mark now begins to rub the fabric ever so slowly, but just enough, to not only get a rise out of Jack, but his dick as well. Of course, this is just the beginning of the end. 

    Hiding his hand under the covers, Jack places his hand over Mark's, prompting him to speed up his movements. Happily, Mark obliges, gripping Jack's shaft through his underwear, but then quickly snatching his hand away. 

    "Yes, you can sleep with us, tonight, dear," Mark says in the most try-hard innocent voice, making Jack gape at him.

Not only has he teased him, but Jack specifically didn't want Mikayla to see any of that. But now, here she is. 

    "I'm gonna go to the bathroom for a second, okay?" Mark tells Mikayla, as he gets out of bed, and begins his descend into the bathroom, with a smirk on his face, stealing a glance at Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but..


	3. PWF

A few days passed, and during those, Mark spent lots of time with Mikayla, making sure she wanted for nothing. It wasn't that Jack spent so little time with his child, it's just that it looked that way, compared to Mark's time. She slept with both of them every night, but that was more for Jack than Mark. At night, he wanted Jack to himself, but this almost seemed to be the only time Jack had with Mikayla without Mark's interference. Those days of being with her all day had to end, eventually, though. Summer was going to end soon, and education details would become the center of attention.

"I think 's time fer her t' get registered fer school, Mark," Jack shifts himself under the covers to properly look at Mark, while he were editing on his computer. Jack would be doing the same, but he finished his editing an hour or two ago.

Without words, Mark just hums a response, and doesn't make eye contact with his partner.

Sighing, Jack sits up in the bed, and leans on the headboard. "Mark, I need fer you t' listen t' me."

With a click of his mouse, he stops using the computer. He also pulls his headphones down from their place, to rest them on his neck. "Jack, I have been hearing you. You want Mikkie to go to school." Turning his chair, he adds, "I already had that covered. You told me that two days ago, and I went up to the nearest one, and got her signed up." He stands up, heading to his partner, and runs his fingers through Jack's hair. "You're worrying for nothing." His hand ends up following a trail downward, and harasses the side of Jack's face.

"Maybe yer right," Jack leans into the touch, and looks up at Mark with sad eyes. They've barely spent time together as they usually did, since Mikayla came home. It wasn't her fault, but...

Mark could sense the same thing, too, because the time spent with Mikayla wasn't split evenly between both her and Jack. Retreating from Jack, Mark adjusts his hair. "C'mon, we're gonna go to the park."

"The park? Why are we goin' t' da park?" Contrary to his words, Jack got up anyway, and proceeded to put on shoes. "What about Kayla? Where's she?"

"Matthias thought it would be a good idea to have a play date with his daughter and ours." Mark smiles, and grabs Jack's hand, practically pulling him out of the bedroom.

***

"What's yer deal wit' picking me up?" Jack laughs, while Mark holds him bridal style. Holding him bridal style was something Mark loves to do, and, hopefully, will be something significant in the future that plenty would see.

"I love holding you-- is that a problem?" He kisses Jack's forehead, and lowers his head for Jack to rest his arm around the back of his neck.

A few minutes of walking through the park with Jack in his arms, Mark eventually decides to sit him on the upcoming bench. Sitting proudly next to the seemingly long chair, flowers waved unceasingly at Mark, begging for him to welcome them. He fell for them. Closing the distance, he leans down to cut one in half, in favor of keeping the beautiful tip.

Jack pushes his hair out of his eyes, lies his opposite hand on the bench, and watches as Mark takes the flower from the stem, save for a short piece (compared to the original stem). "What're ya up to?"

Holding the flower with both hands, he looks from Jack to the flower, and back to Jack. He smirks, and walks closer to Jack, brushing some hair from his left side, and placing the stem of the flower in the small space behind Jack's ear. Backing up, he eyes Jack up and down, loving the way the color of the flower made him look even more beautiful than he already was. It sprouts a pale purple color, but if you were to even glance at him, his eye color would be make you stare longer. Just seeing Jack with a flower made Mark think of his amaranthine love for him. 

"Why'd ya put a flower behind my ear?" Jack pretends that the flower is hair tucked behind his ear, so he brushes over it, but making sure it didn't move from its designated spot. 

"I think you look pretty with flowers," Mark mentions, sitting so adjoining to Jack that their knees and thighs touch. He clutches Jack's jaw, and kisses his cheek firm, but softly. "Don't take it off."

"Mark, stop..." Small chuckles came after that, while Mark begins to kiss randomly over Jack's face, and even wrapping both his arms around the slim torso. The kisses didn't stop, though. It were kept up, while Jack became a giggling mess, just drinking up all of the affection he hadn't received during the past few days. Eventually, though, the kisses end, and Mark is just there, holding Jack closely. 

"Mark?" Jack inquires, coming back down from all of the excitement. Mark maintains eye contact with him, and kisses his lips softly. 

"Excuse me," A female voice declares, making both men turn their heads toward her direction, and wait for her to say what she needs. She had burgundy shoulder-length hair, and were white. The dress show wears screams from the 70's, and a red headband kept her hair in place. "I just so happen to have my son-" she points over in the distance, at a kid who twists in circles, by a giant oak tree-- "and I just really wish that you would keep the PDA down, okay?" She gestures with her hands as an I'm-really-sorry-but-not-really thing. "He's really young, and I don't want for him to become gay, you know?"

Mark eyes her for a second, before slowly letting his possessive restraint around Jack falter. He furrows his brows for a second-- you'd miss it if you blinked-- and looks back up at the women with such disdain, hurt, and such hatred, much similar to what you'd see only when he got upset over a video game, "Shut the fuck up," he also smirks, but it wasn't with hilarity. 

Jack takes Mark's upper arm into his hand, and loudly whispers, "Mark!" He never expected for Mark to say anything like that, but getting upset and leaving was expected. "Le's jus' leave." He begins to stand up, but Mark pulls him back down. Obviously, he wasn't set on moving. 

"No, Jack," Mark now stand up and-- even though he's average height-- made the woman become intimidated by his obvious-looking strength. He wasn't gonna leave a park that his boyfriend and himself came to first-- or so it seemed. They came here for a good time, and dammit, that's what was going to happen. 

Jack could feel it radiating off of her, her fright, and he worries that Mark will do something he will soon regret, with his cowing. "Mark, we c'n jus' leave. 'S no big deal." He still tries to tug Mark back down, but he just shrugs him off. "Yer overreactin'. It's not that serious."

Of course, Mark didn't listen to what his significant other had said. Though, was he overreacting? Maybe. Was ignoring Jack the best option? Probably. Probably not. He isn't actually gonna hurt her, is he? "You're kid is probably already gay." He spat, looking past her, and at the kid dancing behind her. 

Gaining some confidence, she straightens, "Why do you say that?" 

"Look at how he is. His shirt is fucking pink. He's a godamn pussy, already," Mark shrugs. "And his hair is gay as hell. He's gonna like it up the ass, too." He decides to laugh at that, though the woman didn't think it was very funny. 

"My son will never be like you. He's gonna have a wonderful family, married to a wonderful girl." She almost seems to be on the same level of anger as Mark, but that was impossible. "And the shirt isn't pink, It's salmon." 

"Like me?" He scoffs, "No, he--" Mark points to Jack-- "Likes it up the ass, not me. Have you seen me? I'd never be a fag like him."

Jack feels extremely awkward, and the heat from his face spreads down to his neck. Mark just... called him a fag. It was extremely unorthodox, and his sadness could be detected from miles away. His family back in Ireland might call him soon, as they would pick it up, easily. It was one thing to be called a fag by a stranger, but if someone you love deeply says it, it feels like hell has frozen over. He could swear his heart could be heard by the kid over there, shattering into millions of pieces. Hopefully, they'd be as sharp as glass, and Mark would be fucking devastated to walk through them, just to get to an isolated Jack. "Mark..." 

"Why don't you just take your future twink kid, and leave the park yourselves, if you hate gay people so much," Mark gets rid of the extra space between the lady and himself, making her back up a few steps. 

"Instead, why don't both you sinners leave?" She balances her weight onto her left leg. "The entire rest of the park is filled with nuclear families. You don't fit in here." Her confidence boosts so much, that even her child looks over to observe the obscure scene. The index finger on her right hand extends, and pokes Mark in his chest several times. 

This action causes for Mark to ball his fists, and he almost tackles the lady, but Jack interferes, doing his best to keep Mark back. All of this action was uncalled for, and the transition from happy to pissed happened much too quickly. The simple solution would've been to either ignore her, leave, or to take the comment, ball it up, and throw it away. Either of those suited Jack's fancy, as confrontation wasn't a thing he liked. 

"Mark! Le's jus' go home! You cannot hit a woman," Jack calms Mark down faster than he thought, as his anger ceases just enough, that Jack can stand in front of him, lightly rubbing his chest to keep him from doing anything stupid. "Home, okay?" He sounds like he's trying to make an offer sound pleasing. 

***

Mark somewhat slams the front door closed, after letting Jack in first. His anger wasn't running as wildly as it was just moments ago, but it's still apparent in his actions. Maybe seeing Mikayla, or even Chica, would calm his nerves. He reaches behind him to take his device from his pocket, and Jack speaks throughout his endeavor to reach out to Matthias. 

"Mark... did ya really mean what ya said?" He stops standing, and steals a seat on the couch, waiting to hear just what his boyfriend comes up with. How could he explain that? Of course he meant it. If he didn't mean it, why would he say it? 

"Every word," The other responds, sprawling over the cushions on the opposite side of the couch. When Jack didn't respond, Mark looks up, making eye contact with him. Opening his arms, that was his way of telling Jack to come and lie with him. 

"So... you... think 'm a fag?" The offer is declined, simply with Jack's stare. 

"What?" Confusion was evident on the redhead's face, and sits up once Chica comes to take Jack's spot lying with his lover. 

"Ya called me a faggot, Mark."

"I didn't call you a faggot. I remember telling the woman that her son would be gay, and that's it. Then you got upset, and asked that we come home," Mark sends out, like anyone would believe that excuse. It happened mere moments ago, Jack can recall, but if Mark was gonna lie, he wouldn't be in the presence of a liar.


	4. Kissy, Kissy, Bang, Bang, Delicious

    "I don't remember that, Jack, I promise," Mark says, trying to erase and sadness Jack might have built up. 

    "Well, I do," Jack picks up a part of Mikayla's abandoned tea set, and pretends to examine it, just for extra time. The cup itself was white... with pink spilled on the inside. Hopefully, Mikayla didn't lose any pieces to it. Didn't it come with a basket? Where was it? "How c'n ya not remember insultin' me, but ya can remember talkin' 'bout the kid?" 

    Mark doesn't answer the question, only finds a way around it, "Why did you just sit there and let that woman insult us?" Now that he thinks about it, Jack wasn't even upset about that. He was more upset over an insult that probably happened, instead of the real problem. "Why don't you ever stand up for you- us?" Mark stops lying down with Chica, sits up, and rests both hands to the sides of him on the couch. 

    "What?" Now Jack starts picking up the rest of Mikayla's toys, actively cleaning to avoid getting upset at Mark. 

    "Whenever someone says something homophobic to us, you just get upset at me, for standing up for us," and It was true. Jack never stood up for them-- not once. Not during the past few instances, and none prior to those. Once, a very distraught guy flirted with Jack, only to make fun of and insult him. Apparently, he only did it for a joke. Jack wasn't too interested in the guy, but he was broken-hearted once reunited with Mark. 

    "Tha's not true--" 

    "Yes it is!" The redhead pushes himself up from the sitting position, clenching his fists together, and repeating the action, reworking. 

    This thing catches Jack's attention, but he isn't afraid of Mark. He has no reason to be, as his partner wouldn't do something as malignant as putting his hands on him. "Mark, I ha'e when people 're homophobic, too, but I don' jus' pick fights with strangers!"

    "That's because you're too afraid of being hated! You want everyone to like you so much, that you don't know when to fucking stand up for yourself!" It wasn't advantageous, but Mark still decides to use his left hand to effectively discharge the pillows on the couch, and send them onto the floor. "And I'm tired of it, Jack!"

    It was true, Jack didn't want to be hated, so he never intruded on someone else's life, and did his best to keep anger from expelling onto their mood. He would never forgive himself if he had upset someone so much, that they despised him. "You don' think I am, too?! When people 're rude to us, Mark it ge's me heated, but 'm not stupid enough to act on it!" Now, Jack's pissed, and upset, at Mark's accusations, no matter how truthful they were, and it fell on deaf ears. 

    Mark breathes heavily, and runs his fingers through the mess he's calling hair. "Are you calling me stupid?" He terminates the extra, unneeded, space, pulling Jack close by his shirt, to meet in the middle. "For reminding them that we're people, too?" 

    Jack places both hands on Mark's chest, making Mark back up. He was trying to calm the whole situation-- he started-- down, but Jack wasn't done. "No, yer tryna make this thing better, bu' tha's not how ya deal wit' people." The enraged yelling is over, but not the purpose, nor the undercover anger hidden under the attitude Mark just changed.

    That was it. The last Jack got to say, before he felt himself harshly fall back, and a horrible pain rapidly spreading from the back of his head into a headache. The Irishman curses, and takes his left hand to rub at the back of his neck, coming in contact with the wall a few times. 

    "Well that's how I deal with it! And I--" His face fell. The crest-fallen expression that came to house itself over Mark's face was there to stay. His hands became the stars of the show, as his eyes examine them. Looking back at Jack, he sees how slowly his lover looks up, with watery eyes, and melancholy engraved on his face. Quickly, he kneels next to Jack, trying to soothe the matter. "Jack, baby, are you okay? I... I-" 

    "Don't... touch... me," His voice broke, doing his absolute best from letting the tears break free. Mark never went as far as to hurt him, but he broke the streak twice, and it hadn't even been a full trip around the axis. Pushing Mark back, again, he goes against the floor to stand himself up. 

    Mark follows suit, trying to take his lover's hand in his, "I didn't try to-- Jack-- I'm sorry--"

    "I said don' touch me!" He snatches his hand away, keeping Mark's company limited to the most space as possible. 

    The redhead could feel the sadness creeping up on him, and someone standing next to his heart, just waiting for something extra to happen, so they could crush it. Not only is Jack hurt, but he's full of wet anger, and Mark couldn't bear to see it. "Jack I didn't mean it."

    Turning around to face Mark, he only whispers, "If you didn't mean it, then why would you do it?" 

    An answer didn't come to Mark, as he only stands there, filling the room with uncomfortable silence. There was no good way he could justify his actions. No respectable person would hurt, or belittle their partner, so why did he? Was he respectable? 

    ***

    "Did ya have fun at Matthias' house?" Jack asks Mikayla as he balances her on his lap, helping to feed her some of the spaghetti Mark decided to make as a make-up. 

    "Yes! It was so fun! Amanda took out that thingy, and took a really long picture," she shrugs, taking the fork from Jack, since he took forever to feed her properly. Of course, though she had said times before that she could feed herself, her two dads didn't listen. 

    "A camera?" Mark suggests, not looking at his daughter, but at Jack, letting the previous events run him wild. Mark wanted for the two to sit next to each other, but Jack specifically wanted to sit on the opposite end of the table. His heart flutters with some hope as Jack looks up at him through his lashes, but it disperses the second he looks back down. He only spoke up to get Jack's attention, but that didn't work. 

    Mikayla looks up with a huge smile, "Yeah! That's what it's called! I forgot." She picks up Jack's hand she just took fork from, and puts it on top of her head, laughing loudly. 

    The Irishman furrows his brow, and pats his daughter's head. In suffering, he says, "Kayla, please don' laugh too loudly." 

    Mark never stops looking at his boyfriend, understanding why he didn't want her laugh to echo too much. If only wasn't indirectly dampening Mikayla's fun. With that being said, he didn't want for her to quit her fun just because of Jack. No matter how guilty he felt. "It's past 10, I think it's time for bed."

    "But, da-- Mark!" Mikayla throws her head back, having Jack pull his hand back. "Just a few more minutes!"

    "No, it's late--"

    "Ya can stay up," Jack kisses the side of her forehead, glaring at Mark with deceitfulness. It was his turn to one-up what Mark had to say. 

    "No, we're all goin' to bed," He stand up, pushes in his chair, and walks the distance needed to successfully get to where half of his family is located. Mark takes Mikayla from Jack's arms, and balances her on his hip. He can see Jack abruptly change his mood, going from deceitful to upset. 

    "'S too early t' go t' bed, Mark. Wha's yer problem?" Acutely, he stands up to face both his child and partner, not prepared for Mark to coax him out of the pathway of the chair by gently wrapping his arm around his waist. 

    Mark connects his lips with Jack's, and though he didn't want to kiss him back, he did. He did hurt him, but he was still his boyfriend. Unexpectedly, Mark slaps Jack from behind, making the smaller of the two jump. 

    "You go upstairs, and I'll put Mikkie to sleep," Mark whispers to Jack, as to keep it a secret, and because Mikayla had already fallen asleep in his arms. 

***

    Meticulously pulling the covers back on Mikayla's bed, Mark places her between the sheet and comforter, and readjusting the white fabric over her. He makes sure that she's secure and warm, before turning the lights off and leaving. He's over the moon at the fact that he'll be able to spend time with her tomorrow. 

    Approaching the door to his and Jack's room, he takes a deep breath, opening the door carefully. He didn't want to upset Jack, again. If he were sleeping, or trying to, waking him up wouldn't do any good. With the door fully open, he could easily see that Jack's sitting on his phone, patiently waiting for his boyfriend, just as asked. Walking towards the bed, Mark gets on it, crawling towards Jack. He bypasses him, though, getting under the cover next to him. 

    "What did ya want so bad tha' we all had t' go?" Jack asks, feeling a tiny bit annoyed. "Yer not even dressed to go t' bed."

    "Because I want to apologize. I know that what I do won't make up for it completely, but I hope that you won't be upset at me, after," Mark puts his hand over Jack's cheek, and brings his face closer to kiss him roughly. This time, he licks Jack's bottom lip, hoping he wouldn't turn him away. Luckily, he opens his mouth, allowing for Mark to let his tongue enter. 

    Jack softly moans as his tongue comes in contact with Mark's. Adjusting the way he sits, his hand finds its way to the back of Mark's neck, trying to pull him much closer than what he already is. 

    Mark is the one to pull away, breathing heavily and stroking Jack's hair. "No, Jack, it's not that." He already knew that Jack was expecting to get fucked, but he wasn't. At least, it's not that, but similar. Taking the cover off of both of them, he climbs over Jack's legs, to get up off of the bed, altogether. He twists Jack's body to where his feet can now be planted on the floor. By himself, Jack sits up fully. Now, it'd be much more comfortable for both parties. He places his hand over Jack's clothed, growing erection, and lightly rubs there. Considering that Jack's pajamas he usually slept in had drawstrings, they will be extremely easy to pull off. "I know how loud you are, so we're not gonna do the usual. Mikayla is trying to sleep." Mark swore he heard Jack groan in frustration. 

    "I... I won' be loud, Mark, I promise. I'll be quiet," he tries, but it was useless. Jack's just a bystander, now, as he watches Mark hook his fingers around both waistbands, wasting no time. He rises up to allow for Mark to easily pull them down. 

    Mark pulls Jack's pants and underwear down just above his knees. He takes Jack's dick in hand, ready to get on with it, but prefers for the show to go on a bit longer. The redhead grips at the base, and then licks from where his hand ends to the tip, and does it two more times to get a rise out of Jack, literally. Jack was only half hard, as he didn't get a head start. 

    Jack pants, "Mark, please don' tease." He entangles his fingers through Mark's hair, trying to influence him to get started. If Mark were going to tease, it wouldn't be fair, and Jack would have to get him back. 

    Mark decides to take the tip in his mouth this time, rubbing his tongue over it, knowing that Jack loved that. His thoughts were right, as Jack harshly sucks in breaths, and roughly tugs the hair between his fingers downward. Mark doesn't oblige, as he sucks on the tip for seconds more. With an extra lick to the head, Mark wants to jerk Jack off, but it's better to wait. He were going to use lube, but lube in his mouth wasn't the most appealing sounding. Without warning, Mark takes as much of Jack as he could into his mouth, making sure his tongue's pressed against the underside. 

    "Fuck," Jack whimpers, trying to keep quiet. Unfortunately, he never passed that test in the past. He abruptly thrusts up into Mark's mouth, needing to feel more of the warm, wet place. It was by impulse, but at least Mark's gag reflex wasn't as bad as his. "Mark, please..." The Irishman displaces his left hand from Mark's mess of hair, in favor of placing it besides him to roughly hold onto the abandoned cover. 

    Mark's going faster with bobbing his head, with all of the delicious sounds from Jack going straight from his ears to his dick. He wants to do more than just this, but it'd have to wait. Removing his mouth, he uses his hand in it's place. "Please, what?" He looks up at Jack with carnal eyes. 

    "Fuck me," Jack punctuates his words with a moan, quickly biting his lip to keep it under wraps. "Or finger me, at least. Mark, ple-- please."

    "Awe, baby, you want too much," Mark smirks, but brings his hand down to pull the drawer that's built into the bed frame out, to blindly search for what he needs, while his mouth went back to work over Jack's cock. Finally, he removes his mouth once again to properly see where he would put the lubrication. He hooks Jack's legs, and quickly pulls him until he's on the edge of the bed, eagerly waiting for what Mark is going to do next. He props Jack's legs onto his shoulder. "Might as well give baby what he's asking for." Popping the cap to the lube, he pours a generous amount onto his fingers. He then runs his digits over Jack's hole, making sure that he's properly comfortable. Although he still has leftover lube on his fingers, he adds just a small amount extra. You can never have too much lube. 

    "Fuck, tha's cold," Jack says, letting his head fall back to rest against the covers underneath him. He's perfectly ready once Mark penetrates him with the first finger. Unfortunately, either Mark's taking extra precaution, or he plans on teasing. His finger was going ever-so slowly, and just builds up Jack's frustration. "Go faster."

    It wasn't the latter, as Mark goes much faster, to Jack's best wishes. Driving his finger inside of Jack, it was well understood that adding another would be the best option. And that he did, purposely missing Jack's prostate, obviously not tired of all the teasing. He just seems to love the wonderful sounds Jack makes, and cannot wait to actually fuck him. 

    Jack gasps, by the reason that Mark brushes against his prostate. He does the same thing several times, even directly hitting it. It causes Jack to whimper over and over, getting louder with each one. "F-fuck, Mark-- please just fuck me!" He knows he should wait for Mark to go for three fingers, but he doesn't want to wait any longer. 

    Not even asking, Mark stands, allowing for Jack's legs to fall. Shortly after, he realizes that he never even undressed himself, letting his painful hard on grow in his jeans-- without notice. Quickly, he unbuttons his pants, pulling both his boxer briefs and pants down completely. The lube is picked up once again, with a copious amount spread over his palm, he holds his own member, spreading the liquid well enough. "Ready?" Is spoken from him, but Jack was ready a long while ago. His only confirmation is a nod as he lines himself up with his boyfriend. Placing Jack's legs around his waist, the fun actually begins.

Jack sighs loudly as Mark finally enters him, a long-awaited moment. Once again, Mark stills. The fact that he still does his best to make sure Jack is comfortable during such risqué acts is thoughtful, but tedious. "Move, Mark." 

Mark takes heed. Instead of starting slowly, a medium pace takes its place. He's confused of where to place his hands, so he opts for taking both of Jack's wrists. 

"H... Harder," Jack tries to tell, but the word just comes off as a pornographic sound instead. If he wasn't satisfied before, he is now, since Mark didn't only go harder, but faster. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" The biting of his lip didn't help contain any of his sounds, but it truly is a beautiful sight. 

Sweat now beginning to breech his forehead, Mark says, "You said you'd be quiet," he ends the sentence with a particularly sharp thrust. It makes Jack keen.

Arching his back, Jack does his best to respond clearly: "'M trying!" But it's contradicted by several moans, prompting for Mark to put his hand over his mouth. Didn't work too much. A hand can only muffle so many gasps and whines. 

"Fuckin'... Try harder. The neighbors'll complain again." He goes back to holding wrists to gain more leverage. 

"M-Mark, right there! Right there!" His chest stutters and heaves, as Mark hits his spot perfectly with the angle. "Shit, shit, shit, don't stop!" 

And he didn't. As much as he didn't want to hear complaints in the morning, he loves the sounds Jack makes while being fucked even more. 

A mantra of 'yeses', paired with every sexual sound and curse word you could think of later, all leads up to this point: "Mark, 'm about to come!" He closes his eyes, and can feel all of the world's heat pool in his belly as Mark keeps up with his promise of not stopping. 

"I know, baby, me, too," Mark wants to kiss Jack in this very moment, but kisses will have to wait. 

As bad as he wants to, he can't touch himself, since Mark has both of his wrists confined. It's no problem now, though, as he spurts out several white ribbons of cum over his stomach, quietly. It was no shock anymore that Jack wasn't loud-- at all-- when he came, now. It's something he does even before he comes, making it obvious he were on the verge. He also is so wrapped up in his own orgasm that he doesn't notice Mark's coming inside of him. Well, not until he sees that his lover looks relieved after pulling out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3,000+ words later...


	5. A Small Important Detail

A knock on their door sounds, as Mikayla waits patiently on the other side, hoping one of the two will open it. Or at least say it's unlocked. It had been a minute, but she holds out hope. Fortunately, the knock she sends once again doesn't go unanswered. 

"'S unlocked!" Jack says from the opposite side, not yelling to wake up Mark, but loud enough for Mikayla to hear.

Happily, she opens the door. She thought that she'd see two awake people, but instead she comes to see both her parents are sleeping. Well, the green one isn't. Mikayla runs toward the side of the huge bed that Jack is sleeping on. She smiles widely at him, and thrusts her arms forward.

"Yer up this early?" Jack sits up, though he wasn't ready to fully get out of the warmth. Now that he notices, the room is still darkened with the absence of light. Maybe it's just night? His voice is still raspy, though-- what time is it? Regardless, his hands go out to grasp his daughter under her arms and hoist her upwards. He sits her in the space between Mark and himself.

"I wanted to come sleep with you and Mark," she yawns, rubbing her eyes with both hands for extra effect. Although her room's lovely, the feel of two extra people near is much better. Even though she didn't ask, she pulls the cover over her head, and positions herself under it.

"Fine, but don' wake up Mark," Jack leans down to kiss her forehead before getting under the covers himself, and going back to the dream he left so hurriedly.

***

Mikayla could hear Jack from a different room, and he's extremely loud. The room's located a few doors down from hers, and she's tempted to see what he's doing. She could also hear Mark, though he's not as loud. As much as she wants to sit in her room and play with her toys, the curiosity gets the best of her. Putting the truck down, she carefully creeps to the door, and peeks around the corner. This would be the perfect opportunity to pretend to be a spy.

Taking a sip from her glass of water, she exits into the hallway. Doing a failed roll, she stops at the door before the suspicious one, and steals a look around. Jack's voice is much louder. Eventually, she'd find Mark, but that will wait. Tip toeing not as quietly as she thought, she ends up at Jack's door, only tripping a few times.

Finally, she puts her hand on the door knob. Twisting it, she opens the door very slowly.

"Fuck! No!" Jack says, with mock anger. He puts his forehead in his palm, and smiles. It seems he didn't notice Mikayla, yet.

She expected to see anything cooler, but no. All she gets to see is an angry Jack, with headphones over his ears. "Jack?" She says, but he doesn't answer. "Jack?" Mikayla tries again, coming closer.

Jack looks at his camera, and almost says another curse word, but stops once he sees Mikayla on the screen. He pulls his headphones down to rest on his neck. "Wha's wrong, Kayla?" Jack spins around in his chair and faces her.

Climbing onto his lap abruptly, she waves into the camcorder with a huge smile on her face. The computer beckons her with colorful things, and so she wraps her hand around the mouse. But before she got to move it, Jack lifts her up the same way he did earlier this morning.

"I didn' introduce ya yet-- this is Mikayla, Mikkie, or Kayla. Mark and I adopted 'er last week. An' she's leavin', now," Jack says, letting Mikayla say a quick "hello" and putting her back on the floor. "Ya can't be in here right now, okay?"

Mikayla nods, and quickly exits the room. Whatever Jack's doing, it's something she's nowhere near interested in. If Mark's doing the same thing, she didn't wanna even check. Why couldn't Jack do something fun? And did he do this everyday? Is that what he and Mark do? Whatever those answers were, they weren't her main focus.

Boredom will eventually take over, if she doesn't find something to do.

***

Mark hears an audible groan from Jack, so he stops his recording, and takes off his headphones. Pushing his chair back, he gets up. What happened? Did he hurt himself? He abandons their room. He doesn't immediately know where Jack is, but luckily he finds Mikayla. He's not as worried as he should be, because Mikayla is okay. That sounds mean, but it's true. Any killer or something-- why was his mind going to the worst of places? 

Stopping to tug on the hem of Mark's shirt, "Jack is in the bathroom," Mikayla says, hoping that that would help both of them in this situation. Jack and Mark, that is. 

"How did you know I was looking for Jack?" Mark kneels down to her height. 

"Jack's looking for you," Mikayla shrugs, and skips down the hall. She knew why Jack needed Mark, but not why it's so urgent. It was just an accident... that happened several times. But it's not like she knew better. 

***

"Mark," Jack sighs, slumping his shoulders, looking defeated. Staring at the toilet, he wishes that he had let her stay with him in his recording room. As soon as he saw Mark approach him, he lightened. "Mark, she--"

Mark didn't let him finish, no. "What happened? Did you throw up? Are you okay?" 

Irritation present on his face, he wishes that Jack would really evaluate his surrounding whenever he asked questions. Similar situations happened like this way too often, and it became a hassle. "No, ye fuck," he runs his fingers through his green strands. 

"Then what is? What did you want?" Although he's relieved nothing is wrong with his lover, this whole ordeal seems pointless. 

Rubbing a hand down his face, he answers, "Kayla flushed a whole lotta shit down the toilet, Mark." he wasn't sure if this was on purpose, or an accident, but who flushes all this down the toilet? "My keys, some pills, uh... and some of her toys."

"Are you sure she did that?"

"Are ya callin' me a liar? Do ya think I did it?" Disbelief plasters Jack's face. He might have been reading too much into it, but it makes sense. What was he saying? Is he acting like Jack's memory is failing him? 

"No, babe." Mark raises his hands in surrender. "I'm just seeing. Did you yell at her?" 

"No' yet," Jack straightens out his shirt before bypassing Mark. He isn't going to yell at her-- no. If anything, she'd get a stern talking to. Even though he did believe in spanking, it'd be awkward to do so, since she's adopted. Raised from a baby? Yes, that's different. 

"Oh, no..." A fading voice says, and Jack's heart falls through hiss ass as he hears the sound echo from within his recording room. 

Hoping that nothing terrible decided to happen-- to Mikayla or his equipment-- he slowly decides to walk to the room, cringing. he balls his fists together, but not out of anger, but out of dread. Again, he could be reading too much into it. Once again, his room is located by two others, so the sound could have come from either. At least he hopes that's what it is... 

He regrets having hope, as Mikayla peeps out of his room, and goes back on her decision to do that. Jack just stands there in the hallway, groaning on the inside. He raises both hands, though still keeping them bent, and connects both his indexes and thumbs together, and leaving his other fingers raised. He's seen other people do this to calm themselves down, but it just doesn't work too well for Jack. "Mikayla... what, did, you, do?" Although his presence isn't in the room itself, Mikayla still hears him loud and clear. 

Mikayla doesn't answer for a few seconds, Jack counting inside his head. Finally, though, her shadow is reflecting on the open door as she's walking towards it. Unfortunately for Jack, she's holding his camcorder. Though no visible damage could be seen, he had no hope left to raise. 

Presenting the camcorder to her pale parent, she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. He takes it from her, while she dries her small hands on her pajama shirt. Mikayla looks up at Jack with sad eyes, as he understands the electronic isn't dry. The emotions on his face aren't readable, or set, as they're changing from upset, to sad, to angry. "I... I saw Amanda put hers in water to show me that it won't get broken, so I thought your would... But it didn't turn back on. Please don't be upset." 

Gripping the wet camera tightly, he presses the side of his face into his left hand with a pathetic smile. "Mikayla, go to your room," Jack laughs, but obviously not out of hilarity. 

"But Jack--"

"Now, Mikayla," Jack didn't wanna yell at her, but if she didn't listen soon, that just might happen. Luckily, she almost cries, running back to her room to slam her door. Although he feels bad about it, now, it was the best thing to do than to yell at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you find it?


	6. Future Mistake

"Why? So ya can insult me, again?" Jack retorts, hesitating on accepting Mark's offer with haste. The last time he went along with one of Mark's "romantic" things, he was called out of his name, and lied to about it. What guy, or smart person, would do that again?

"Jack, I don't--"

Recently, Mark sat on the couch a few minutes ago, because he finished filming, and saw Jack go by. He pulled him onto his lap, and rubbed circles onto his hip. He was going to make Jack lunch, but he also refused that, as he preferred that all the leftovers were gone first. It wasn't out of spite, but just common sense.

"Yeah, yeah, ya don't remember." Jack waves him off. "I've got things t' do anyway, today, okay?" He touches Mark's forehead, and sweeps and stray hair upwards. "But I appreciate the offer. Ya know I love you too much to mean what I said seriously."

"Fine, but I better not find out that you're just blowing me off, Sean." Mark takes his left arm, and wraps it around Jack to connect both of his hands, in turn hugging the smaller of the two tighter, places a kiss on his shoulder, and rests his head there where the kiss fades away.

Jack drops his head over Mark's, loving all of this affection. "I promise 'm not."

***

"You sure?" Mark walks hand-in-hand with the curlicue, while she skips happily through the parking lot. Mark wanted to spend the day with both Mikayla and Jack, but now since he's only spending it with the little girl, the plans have changed. Though, he's fine with it, as long as she's happy. 

"Yes! I've seen so many of my old friends with 'em, and I want 'em!" That huge smile Mikayla always sported shows up again, and that's Mark's selling point. 

"Well, you can only get the little stud ones, okay? We don't need Jack having a heart attack," Mark laughs. 

She lets go of his hand and runs towards the upcoming door, "Wait!" 

That laugh doesn't fade, however, as Mark watches Mikayla try to hold the door open for him. She's short, so reaching the handle is a struggle, let alone how heavy the door is. Nevertheless, she manages to open to door for him, with little help. 

"Why thank you, m'lady."

***

"This won't hurt, okay? Maybe a pinch-- that's all," the woman that is going to pierce Mikayla's ears says, placing a small earring inside of the gun. 

He feels bad, instantly, because the woman is stunning, and it feels like he's betraying Jack. She's shorter than him, but not much. Her skin is darker than Mikayla's, but not extremely. The dark hair she possesses is growing down toward the middle of her back. She has diamond earrings in her own ears, which didn't seem too far-fetched. 

Smiling, and leaning forwards in the chair, Mikayla nods, "Okay, I'm ready." She sits back up in the chair, leaning her head to the side to offer more room for the woman to access her left ear. 

Mark places his hands in his pockets, getting up the nerve to start a conversation before the entire moment is over. It's not like getting a tattoo, and only two things are happening. "Uh... How long have you been piercing ears?" It sounds like a dumb question, but what else could he ask?

She doesn't answer right away. Multitasking, she opens the alcohol packet and takes it between her fingers, to soon rub it over Mikayla's first lobe. "About four years."

"Is it fun? Or boring?"

"I guess it can be fun, but that's because I meet nice kids." She does the same to the opposite ear, and then throws it away, now picking up the piercing gun. "She's your daughter?"

"Yes. Her name is Mikayla," She didn't ask that, but there's nothing wrong with sharing.

"Why isn't her mom here with you guys? No means to intrude on your life, though."

"No, um," he hesitates for a second, but realizes that he shouldn't. But why does he feel ashamed, suddenly? Just the thought of looking at someone else in the same manner feels like he's cheating on his boyfriend waiting at home. That's enough to put his mind through a daze. "She's... just at home." That will have to change. He loves Jack-- doesn't he? Was Jack's pushover mentality rubbing off on him? God, he hopes not. If he ends up not standing up for himself and feeling bad for being with a man, that'll be the day. It just seems different, right now. He might tell her that he's dating a guy later, but if the two ever pursue something, he's eventually tell. Even though he does love a man, he's positive he isn't just gay. If anything, he would say bisexual. He's had girlfriends before, so there's no question there. Also considering the fact that he does think this woman is very pretty, that would mean he's attracted to women. He didn't really... Think about his sexuality too much, as he just dated whomever he felt attracted to. That would explain Jack, wouldn't it? Now thinking of Jack, he's just gay. The only reason he really dated two females before Mark was because he felt apologetic for being homosexual, but didn't feel an extreme connection with them. Now, one of them is just a good friend of his.

"Really?" She had already pierced both Mikayla's ears, without Mark noticing. Maybe he was too caught up in his thoughts? "She has two lenient parents. That sounds like the life." She laughs. "What's your name, by the way?" Her weight is being pressed up against a standing desk.

"Mark," he says, feeling the same connection back when Mikayla first introduced herself. "You?"

"Charity."

***

Mark puts the keys into the ignition, and turns backwards to Mikayla before starting up the car. "You wanna go get some ice cream?" 

Just after Mikayla got her ears pierced, Mark took her around the mall to find several things she wanted. Since she's just a little girl, none of her clothes or miscellaneous items came up to much-- even though Mark wouldn't have minded either way. 

She tilts her head to the side, puts her finger on her chin, and her imaginary thinking has taken over. "Hmm... I'm more a milkshake kind of girl," the laugh Mark has come to know takes places, as she leans back in her booster seat. 

"Well, I better not see any boys in your yard, young lady." Albeit she might be too young to understand the reference, that didn't stop him from making it. Even so, it's somewhat true. He spins back around, picking up his celluar device, and staring at the black screen. The redhead frowns at the new contact in his phone. 

*** 

"Vanilla is so ew," He feigns disgust, chuckling at her plain choice in shakes. 

As short as she is, Mark's surprised he can even see her looking at him over the table in the booth. A table would've been better, but, they were all taken. Well, at least booths are more private and don't allow for strangers to poke their noses in your conversations. Mark wasn't feeling that, right now. 

"Gotta stick to the basics!" She shrugs, as her hands come up to embrace the styrofoam cup. 

"What do you know about the basics?" 

"Enough to know I have to stick to 'em," she retorts with some giggles, drinking some of her drink. 

Mark raises both hands in surrender, "Well tell me something." He eventually lets his hands droop, and clutches his phone in his right hand. Pressing the power button, it seems that it's getting later and later-- as that's how time works. But ultimately, they'll have to go home. Being that it's almost seven, and they haven't spoken to Jack since, he might be worried. What if he is worried? Mark knows how Jack can be, but he can spend some time with his daughter, can't he? If he's upset, I just know that he's gonna yell at me, like he always does when I get home late... Why is he already getting upset at Jack, when the man didn't do anything at all? If anything, he's just being extra emotional, right? 

"Says the one with strawberry! That's too sweet!" 

Strawberry? "What?" He asks, not understanding what she just said. 

"You got strawberry, see?" She climbs down from the cushions with little problem, and reaches a short arm upwards to the other cup housing the table with hers, pulling it down with her. She grasps the lid and pulls it off, tilting the cup towards Mark, making sure that he got the full view. 

He takes the cup from her and puts the lid and straw combination back on. "Oh," Is all he can say. The fact that she proved him wrong upsets him a small bit. Why would he get strawberry? It's not a usual flavor he'd get when he'd come here--

His thoughts are interrupted by his phone vibrating, and he's afraid to look at the called ID. He does, though, and he knows that Jack is going to be furious with him for coming home so late. The option to answer just hangs over his head, waiting for him to grab it, but it's getting farther and farther from reach. Should he answer, or should he wait? Should he answer, or should he wait? Should he answer, or should he wait? Should he answer, or should he wait? Should he answer, or should he-- the vibrating stops. It was a close call, but now it's giving him extra time to respond sooner or later. 

"Are you okay, Mark?" A hand finds its way onto his shoulder, startling him. 

Mark turns his head, and sees a familiar face. Luckily, it's one he wants to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's short, It's just that I'm working on YouTube right now, and finals. I promise during summer they'll be at least 3,000 or 4,000+ words.


	7. I Promise

Mark pulls the gear from drive, and puts it in park. Gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands, Mark rests his head over them both. "Mikayla, when we get in this house, you can't tell Jack at all about Charity, okay?" The encounter with Charity wasn't wrong, nor is it sneaky. But he can't tell Jack. There's nothing wrong with keeping secrets, right? A grown man can't keep secrets, now?

"Why? Does he know her? Will he be upset that I got them pierced?" She unbuckles the seat belt, and lets it wind back towards the seat.

"Just don't." He presses the lock button the car, as soon as he and Mikayla exit it. "I regret that you were there, and I need for you not to tell him. You understand?" He picks out the house key, but turns to grasp Mikayla's hand in his before actually unlocking the door.

Of course she remembers parts of the conversation. Not all of the words that were said, but just enough to get the feel of what was exchanged. But she chose not to care too much about anything they've said. She was told not to tell Jack, and that'd be easy, considering that she didn't care about the situation at hand, it didn't matter too much. The only thing she really wants to do is show off her new earrings with her green parent. "Mhm." She lets go of Mark's hand, in favor of running inside the cool house and going up to Jack, stretching her arms up.

"Oh my goodness!" Jack says in a playful tone, picking up the girl and putting her on his hip. "Where have ya been all day, little lady?"

Mark stands by the door, lingering too long. With that being said, he walks further into the house, and he throws his keys on the couch. Vowing to steal a few glances from Jack, his boyfriend didn't even look his way. 

"We went to get my ears pierced! And we even got milkshakes, and we went shopping!" Mikayla giggles, pushing the curls on the left side back, allowing for the small rings to be seen.

"Those are, like, so cute," the typical voice he does when he's communicating about clothes or jewelry-- or the stereotypical gay man voice-- shows through.

"Did you used to have earrings?" She notices the rather large holes in Jack's ears. Well, they're large compared to hers.

Nodding, and turning his mouth into an impressed frown, he responds, "S... Somethin' like that. But 'll tell ya all about that while 'm tucking ya in, cos--" his initial pattern is to walk towards the stairs, and as he passes Mark, he glares at him-- "'s almost eleven."

Mark watches Jack go upstairs, feeling guilty for keeping Mikayla out as late as she was, but in all honesty, he thought and could've sworn that it was only seven. Is his phone wrong? Or is he wrong? He pulls his phone out, and checks the time. Sure enough, It's 10:48. Time just escaped him, is all. He didn't read it wrong, and neither is his phone. That makes up for it, right? 

Fuck, now he didn't even remember a lot of the things he even said earlier, or even what they talked about. All he remembers is someone asking him if he was okay, and a few things in between. 

_"Are you okay, Mark?" A hand finds its way onto his shoulder, startling him._

_Mark turns his head, and sees a familiar face. Luckily, it's one he wants to see. Sighing, he greets Ryan with a small smile, and sad eyes. "I'm fine, just thinking, is all."_

\--

_"Really? You're actually gonna do this without Jack knowing?"_

\--

_"I know he'll probably find out..."_

\--

_"How long will you hide this...?"_

_"Just long enough..."_

 

***

"Oh, yeah, I had these big a-- ol' gauges in my ears," Jack over exaggerates how big they actually were, by putting his hands close to his ears, spreading his fingers.

"Did they hurt?" She pulls the cover up to her chin, like she's listening to the worst horror stories that's ever been made.

"Like he-- like shi--" Jack takes a deep breath. "It hurt a lot. Ya have to stretch yer ears t' get used t' it, but I didn'. I jus' went up."

"That's why you still have holes in your ears?"

"Yeah, they won' close any further." Jack reached forward to run his fingers through her hair.

"Why'd you get them if they hurt?"

"I was in a band," he chuckles at the memory of his past band. He sees Mikayla's eyes light up at asking another question, but he silences her before it's asked. "No, no, I can tell ya all about tha' tomorrow. Yer gonna be plenty tired tomorrow."

Mikayla gives whines of protest, but she figures out just how tired she actually is, once her eyes start to droop. But they open wide once she sees Jack getting up from her bed. She didn't give him a chance to even say anything to her before she speaks out, "Goodnight, green hair guy!" Her giggles fade into tiredness. 

Jack's chortles come again, "Goodnight, curly-haired girl." He goes to her, and fluff her hair up before b-lining for the light switch. Turning off the light, he exists while closing the door lightly. The trip down the stairs felt like it's taking forever, but eventually he's down them. He wants to talk to Mark. 

Mark's leaning on the kitchen counter staring at his phone, but the second he sees Jack, he stops him, saying the words he just felt Jack would spew: "I know what you're gonna say, and I'm sorry that I kept Mikayla out so late." Jack tries to say something again, but Mark cuts him off, again. "Please don't be upset. I thought it was much earlier than it actually is-- I promise." All he did was worry on the trip back that Jack would be upset, and the man in front of him doesn't even look half as bad as he thought he would. 

Finally walking up to Mark after standing in the doorway for a few extra seconds after Mark spoke, Jack stands in front of him with crossed arms. "'M not mad, Mark. Well, not now, anyway." He uncrosses his arms and places his palms on Mark's chest, ridding some space between the two. "I jus' wanted ya home, earlier, is all." Jack takes his bottom lip between his teeth lightly. 

Mark gulps, because he knows what Jack wants, as it's much too obvious. But he didn't wanna give it to him. "Well... I mean... I'm- I'm here now, but I'm hella tired." That's a lie. 

"But I know what can wake ya up," Jack suggests, playing with the fabric of Mark's shirt he has between his fingers. 

Mark clasps both of Jack's hands in his. "Jack, what- what about tomorrow night?" For some reason, he feels unable to have sex with Jack, and he's unsure why. He's still attracted to Jack, so that's not it. He could also just not be in the mood, but that--

"Why're ya puttin' me off?" Jack presses his hands together. Knowing that Mark usually initiates it most of the time, and Jack usually just went with it, it's not like him to refuse it. 

"I'm- I'm not, it's just I'm not up for it, tonight, Jack. That's it, I'm sorry." He feels extremely bad for denying his boyfriend, and he only wants to make him happy, but saying 'no' is what he really wants right now. But he felt the need to apologize to Jack over and over and over and over and over and over. Just the thought of rejecting Jack makes him upset. 

"Ya are," Jack retorts, taking his hands from Mark. "Yer not even tired, Mark, I c'n see it." 

"No, Jack, don't take your hands away." Mark reaches forward trying to hold Jack's hands again, but Jack just moves them farther away. 

"Why?" 

"Because I want to hold them--"

"No, ya fuck." Jack slaps Mark's hands away, but not hard enough to actually hurt him. "Why?"

Mark sighs, leaning back against the counter. "Jack, I'm really not feeling it tonight, okay?" He tries to clasp Jack's hands in his again, and this time Jack doesn't take them away. Kissing them, he says, "But tomorrow, I promise that I will." _I promise. I promise. I promise. I promise. I promise. I promise. I promise. I promise._

Jack knows damn well that he cannot resist Mark, so he doesn't fight his love about this. Although it is strange that Mark is acting this way, there's no need to cause a ruse. "Okay, ya big doof," he laughs, the second after Mark pulls him close for one of his kiss fits, kissing him in many places. Apparently, that's his way of apologizing. 

***

"For fuck's sake, Mark," Jack pushes Mark away for the 600th time that night. "'S fuckin' hot as all hell. Too hot for cuddlin'." Mark isn't awake, no, but it feels like it. Since he keeps pulling Jack close, he might as well fucking be. Once again, Jack is dragged backward once again by strong arms, but this time it's different. Now Mark's holding him much tighter, and with both arms around his waist, making it slightly uncomfortable for Jack to lie down properly. "Mark, please--"

"Promise me that you won't leave me, Jack," Mark cuts off Jack, scaring him a little, as he thought the other man was asleep. 

"What? Mark can we do this some other--" Mark interrupts him again with a squeeze to his midsection. 

"Jack, please. Promise me that you won't leave me over anything stupid, promise." Kisses are placed on Jack's shoulder. Even though both men are sweaty, that doesn't stop Mark. 

Jack sighs, knowing that such promises will could cause a good or bad outcome, but regardless-- "I promise. I, Sean McLoughlin, promise t' not leave ya, Mark Fishbach, for anythin' stupid." Mark releases his grip on Jack, allowing for some breathing.


	8. Tea Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not silly!

"Jack, I gotta edit this, okay?" Mark brushes off Jack's advances once again, in favor of working on his computer to quickly edit a short video, and a three hour long one into only 20 minutes. 

"But ya promised yesterday," Jack whines, dropping on the bed like a child that didn't get their way. 

Mark sighs, only stopping his work to look over at Jack. "Jack, please. You're acting like a child." 

"'M only actin' this way cos ya promised," Jack whines once again, getting louder the farther he goes down the sentence. 

"If you say so." He turns back to his computer. 

"Ya did promise. Ya don't remember?" Jack sits up, waiting for Mark to explain, or say that he's wrong. 

He didn't answer right away. 

"Mark?"

"I remember. I'm just busy right now, is all." Mark rests his head on his left palm, actively ignoring Jack's eye contact. "When I'm done, we can fuck until your heart's content. All night, and all day. How does that sound?" 

"Sounds painful," Jack laughs, falling back onto the bed, taking up a lot of the space on it. "Mark, a quickie only takes a few minutes. Then ya can get back t' yer editin'."

"No, Jack." 

"What about blow and hand jobs?"

"No."

"Dry humping?" 

"We're both wearing Jeans," Mark chuckles, working towards the middle of the video. "You're also acting like a dog in heat."

"We could put our--"

"I think I hear Mikayla calling for you, babe," Mark cups his ear with the previous hand he had used to lay his head on, to interrupt Jack. Obviously, there's no sound from the small child, but anything to get Jack onto a new subject. He didn't want to make his partner feel like shit by telling him that he's becoming annoying. The option for a playful and obvious lie seems to decorate the cake. 

Jack rolls his eyes, but he gets up nonetheless. The whole "horny" thing is fun and all, but he hasn't played with Mikayla in a while. Is that bad? "Fine, I'll see ya later, ya fuck." He removes his weight from the bed, and exits the room in an effort to find his child. 

***

The cup is almost overfilling, but Jack doesn't mention it. The cups to her set are small, so he drank his tea(lemonade) rather quickly, though he tried not to, in an effort for the queen to not use her precious energy pouring her guest something to drink once again. 

"You're drinking up too quick!" Mikayla scolds Jack, wishing that he'd understand that he isn't supposed to actually drink the tea, but let it pose there on the table, making the tea gathering look its best. How is she supposed to put all of the other tea parties to shame if the aesthetic factor is lacking in the tea department? 

"'M sorry! I jus' really love lemonade," Jack notices that she didn't put the top back on the kettle, and that's not what the best meet-ups look like, mind you. He does the honors of picking up the top, and putting it back to where it came from, effectively keeping dust from showing up to a party it isn't invited to.

"It's tea," She corrects him, with a stern look. "How can the queen have a guest that doesn't know the difference from tea and lemonade?"

"Oh, 'm sorry. I jus' really love tea, miss," Jack does the typical female curtsy, as if he's wearing a dress. It's difficult, though, knowing that he doesn't currently possess too much moving room in this miniscule chair and table. Anything to make Mikayla happy, right?

They were originally going to play outside, and then play Mario, but she insisted on playing with the tea set. Jack believes that she only wants to play with this because she knows that she has no idea how to play Mario, or the wii. Especially since she didn't know the wii is an actual game system until today. The thought of holding such a giant gaming pad seemed too much for her small hands, but when Jack told her that they wouldn't be using it, she didn't believe him. The trip to the backyard, or anywhere under the moon, seemed too far-fetched because of the ominous clouds lurking above, making everyone question if they should be outside during this time of evening. Jack did, however, let Chica outside, so he'd have to check up on her once he's done here with Mikayla, or once the sound of raindrops reflects from the roof of the house. Hopefully Mark won't be upset at that. Well, he shouldn't, considering that she loves to use the floor as her bathroom no matter how long she's been outside. Now that they've got a toddler-- a rowdy one at that-- that "bathroom" mess will have to stop. 

"It's Miss Mik-- Mikkie Mouse!" She gasps at the coincidence of the names, loving that she has just come up with that. 

Jack almost reaches for the cup again, but stops his actions. "Mikkie Mouse? How many queens do ya know named after mice?" 

"One." She takes Jack's cup from in front of him, and moves it closer to herself. 

"Who?"

"Me," Mikayla laughs, almost knocking the kettle over. That would've been a mess; her floor is made of carpet. 

"What 're Mark and I?" 

"My friends. You can't be kings, 'cause then I'd be a princess," she waves her hand at Jack, purses her lips, and looks up. "I want some cereal." She leans forward in her seat, crosses her legs at the ankles, and grips her seat on both sides. 

"Yeah?" Jack does his best to push his seat from under the table and stand up without causing the table to rise up, or even flip. "Apple Jacks?" He is almost out of the room, but he's just leaning into the room from the doorway. 

"Too many Jacks in one place!" She feigns being exhausted about the thought of a Jack, and many other Jacks. 

"Oh, whatever," he says, finally leaving her presence. Once downstairs, he remembers that he should allow for Chica to come back in. 

She's patiently waiting for Jack by the patio door. Or, just anyone. She'd be jumping in her boots if even Mikayla showed up. But, no, there's Jack, and he's going straight for the door she's waiting by. That makes her stand up and wag her tail. 

He takes the handle of the door in his hand, and pulls it back, allowing for the opening to increase. "Hey, girl." Jack greets her, and closes the door back, locking it. "You smell like a wet dog." He doesn't notice it's raining now, and so yes, a dog that's wet will smell like a wet dog. The space by the door is vacant now, as he's over by the cabinet picking out the right cereal to please the waiting queen. Regardless, she's getting Apple Jacks, and he's gonna get his pun, luckily. 

Jack's vision is temporarily blinded as the lights flick off for a few seconds, then back on. It makes him question why, but it only makes sense that the water from above is affecting the electricity. He's surprised that he didn't hear a scream or wail from his daughter, but it isn't hers he hears. 

"Fuck!" Jack can hear very distantly, but loud enough to know who it's from. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" 

Jack pays no mind to it, though, as he plays it off as Mark messing up on a game, and having to start over again. That can be frustrating, though. It makes you not want to record the game again, and if it's really worth it. Regardless, he sits the box of cereal on the counter, opens the one down a few doors, and gets a brown, glass bowl. He steps towards the refrigerator to get the milk waiting its turn. 

"Jack!" The Irishman can hear coming closer and closer, and the staircase being descended. Mark pops into the kitchen a few seconds later, and glares at the only other man there. "Did you fuck with the lights?" As calm as that question sounds, it's anger behind that deep voice of his. 

Jack turns his head as much as he can while he's pouring milk into the bowl on the counter opposite to the one he previously used. "Why would I toy with the lights?" 

"Because you're always fucking some shit up!" Mark grabs the handle of the fridge and slams it closed. "Just like leaving the goddamn door open, wasting all the fucking energy!" 

He sits the milk down, and screws the top shut. Turning to face Mark, he leans on the counter. "Why are ya yellin' at me for? I didn' fuckin' ask it to rain, Mark." Now he's just coming up with extra shit to bitch about. If he could have, he would have kept the rain away longer so that the man he loves can edit in peace. 

"What are you making?" Mark starts to walk towards Jack, and Jack can immediately feel anger and disdain dripping from him. 

"'M making our daughter some damn cereal, you ass," Jack bypasses Mark with the milk, and opens up one of the silver doors. "And this time--" he closes the door once the milk is safely home-- "I closed the door! Ya happy?" He doesn't know where this formidable attitude has formed itself, and then permeated Mark's mood to manifest there, but there's a time and place to be upset, and this isn't it. 

"I don't know what's gotten into your dumb, faggot ass head, Jack," Mark snickers, letting such dangerous words leave his mouth, to bite his lover and inject him with hurt. Staring at the cereal as if it's advancing towards him, he says, "But it's night time..." He copies Jack's action of looking back at him. Mark takes the bowl in his right hand by the rim, spilling a lot of its contents. "And we don't eat cereal at night!" He turns, and catapults it towards Jack's general direction, but it hits the other instead, square in the face, causing immense pain to form exactly over his eye. 

Jack hurriedly puts both his palms over his right eye, buckling at the knees from the impact. The Irishman lets out a cry of pain. He felt a lump form in his throat, and he knew that crying is what comes next. Opening his left eye, he makes eye contact with Mark, feeling his heart drop. Why is he treated this way over small things that don't matter? "Why..." he trails off, hearing his own voice break. 

All of this over the lights, and some cereal? Why all this emotion for tiny things? Over emotional for what? Doesn't he still love Jack? If so, why is he overreacting at him? Jack did nothing wrong, and this silly, childish anger is being misdirected. 

Mark shakes his head, and steals a look at the mess that's made on the counter, the floor, and by Jack. He feels bad. He feels angry. He wants to hug Jack, apologize, and say that it's going to be okay. He wants to fucking call Jack a weak bitch because he's crying. "Clean this shit up." He stomps past Jack and the refrigerator, almost to the stairs. "And quit wasting the fucking breakfast at night!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacksepticeye? More like JackBlackEye. :)


	9. So Many Questions

The fact that Mark actually used such force against... Jack... is unbelievable. Someone he claims he loves... and would do anything for. Are you supposed to abuse the ones you love? Is that the arbitrary decision he, Mark, chose? If so, why? Pushing him is one thing... that was just impulse, and the two situations cannot be juxtaposed, right? At least he hopes it was impulse, and not his own vicious actions in an effort to deliberately hurt him. 

Jack sits quietly in his and Mark's shared bed, afraid to even look at his phone, or move from the spot he's in. His entire waist down is covered by the cover, wrinkling up at his hips, waiting to be pulled over him. But... he doesn't want to. He's too addled to actually sleep tonight, especially since his mind is running wild, continuously, with the same question: _why?_ Will it always be like this? Has Jack done something to Mark to make him feel different about him? If yes, how can he fix it? He cannot stay with Mark if he'll act out whenever he's mad. But shouldn't Jack be the one feeling mad? Then why is he only heart-broken? So many questions, but not enough answers.

With Mark turned the opposite way from him, he's softly breathing, like none of the prior moments ever existed just mere hours ago. His left arm is hanging from the bed while his other is folded under his head. How can he sleep so soundly like this? His conscience isn't weighing heavily on him, making him feel guilty for his drastic actions? 

Jack glances sideways at Mark under his eyelashes as he twists his body to face Jack, pulling the cover up to hide his face. The Irishman can see that Mark's hand is under the blanket blindly searching for something, anything. He knows Mark isn't awake this time, so there were no surprises to be made. Hesitantly, and trusting his mind, Jack buries his hand under the blanket to encompass Mark's hand in his. It's the right choice, seeing as Mark squeezes it.

***

Jack gently dabs over his eye with cold water, hoping that the swelling will go down. He didn't do this yesterday, as he cleaned up the wet mess that he made. Well, that's how Mark put it before they both went to bed. Regardless of who caused it, Jack is still the one being hurt from this. He read online that it'd go away during the span of two weeks, but his fans will likely notice before that during the videos, and he didn't want to wear makeup to cover up. 

"Jack! Jack!" Jack can her Mikayla's voice getting louder as the time goes on, and it makes his heart race. 

She doesn't know that Jack's eye is like this, and he'd like to keep it this way. If she were to find out that Mark might be an abusive significant other, she'd be scared of him. It'd be best to keep this under wraps, literally, because he didn't want their daughter scared of one of her parents. Quickly before she enters, he uses the towel to cover up his eye completely. 

"Look! I drew more pictures of us," she says ecstatically, holding up a poorly-drawn picture of all three of them. They are all stick figures, and the scribbles are back to simulate hair. Jack and Mark are both holding hands, while Mikayla is next to Mark. A huge, scribble-y dot is next to her. Pointing to the dot she says, "That's Chica." Oops. All four of them. "I'm gonna go show Mark!" Mikayla exits the room rapidly before Jack were to respond. 

Hopefully Mark still isn't mad at him, and when Mikayla goes up to him, he's not going to try anything fancy. Not trusting that, he keeps keeps an ear out for their voices. The door is now closed, but there's still a crack in it to be able to hear properly. Jack goes back to wetting the towel, wringing, and putting it over the eye injury. 

"You made this?" Mark replies in a surprised tone. Mikayla nods with a smile. 

"Will you keep it?" The curlicue asks, but Mark didn't get to respond first. 

"Yes. It c'n go in our room," Jack appears suddenly, with his eye once again covered. He draws both of the other gazes with his appearance. "Here, I-I'll take it." Jack walks over towards Mark, desperately wanting contact from him, unfortunately. With his arm outstretched, he waits for Mark to hand it over to him. Luckily for him, Mark gives the picture up without any problems. 

"Jack, can you wait in the room for a second? I want to talk to you," Mark glaces up at Jack's hand that's covering his eye, but not very subtly. He knew, too, that it'd be best for Mikayla to not know about the eye incident, but his reasons weren't clearly known.

He didn't even respond, only looking down, hesitating for a moment. Eventually, he does head straight for the stairs. It's confusing to read from him... is Jack scared or not? Is he going just to talk to Mark in the first place, or does he want to do what his boyfriend says just to not be abused again?

***

"Jack?" Mark says into the sun-lit, unsure if Jack's in there or not. Once he walks in, though, he can clearly see that Jack's in his computer chair, stiffly spinning it from side to side. Mark can feel his heart stutter in it's beating pattern, because Jack's eye isn't covered anymore, and for the world to see. The only response that Jack gives is making eye contact to show that he's listening. "I know it's so far-fetched, but I'm sorry." 

"I bet ya are." Jack rests his head on his palm, and spins the chair counter-clockwise for Mark to not be able to see his face. 

"I didn't mean it, Jack, I- I wasn't- I didn't mean it," Mark tries, but just runs his fingers through his hair, something he does when he's stressed, instead. Jack wouldn't understand.

"I bet ya didn't." 

Mark is rounding the desk, and it makes Jack look up at him. Rather than staying in that spot, he backs as far as he can towards the wall, hating that the foamy surface is stopping his endeavors. 

Mark stops his trip, and looks at his retreating lover with anguish. "Are you scared of me?" Of course, why wouldn't he be? 

Jack didn't respond right away, or even at all. He opts for staring at the floor, taking in all of the patterns and mild colors. 

"How can I make it up to you? I don't want for you to be scared of me, baby," He states, continuing his walk to Jack, and squatting low to get all of his attention. Risking it, he uses his finger to push hair out of his eyes and to make sure they're both looking at each other. 

"I don't know if ya c'n," Jack finally answers, lining up his eyes with Mark's. "How do I know ya won' do it again?" 

He grips Jack by his calves and rolls the chair towards himself, so that he's between Jack's legs as far as possible. "I won't. Jack, I- I won't. Please don't be scared of me. I honestly didn't mean it, and I'll do anything for you to trust me again. I promise." Mark stands up, with Jack's eyes following him, and leans down to hold Jack's face in his hands. "I promise." His lips meets Jack's and they stay there until the other reciprocates the action. 

The Irishman pulls away. Since Mark's palms are still holding his face in them, he covers one of Mark's hands with his own. "Okay."

It's difficult, really. How could Jack possibly not forgive Mark? His heart is telling him that it's the right choice, but his head keeps screaming at him that it isn't. His heart and mind are twisted in two different directions, fighting on which way to go. He's deeply in love with Mark, and he can't stay mad at him for too long. Mark hasn't had a problem with his promises before, so why should he now? His heart has led him down wrong paths before, but he truly feels that this abuse thing with Mark won't continue. But even though his instinct is telling him that it won't, something in his head isn't buying it. But aren't you supposed to believe your instincts before your head? That would make sense, but where does the heart come in to play? Maybe his heart is wrong, and so is his instincts. If that's true, why would cupid misguide his arrow? The two are together for a reason, and he promised that he wouldn't leave Mark over something stupid. Although, why would Mark make that promise just before doing something stupid? That raises an eyebrow, doesn't it? He couldn't have known that the power would go out, or maybe he did something himself, and planned all this. Why would this be planned? But first thing's first: should he believe Mark?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, should he?


	10. Cover This Up

"Would this match?" Mark picks up a white shade of powder foundation, examining it. He's not good at figuring out what matches Jack's skin, only picking up white ones, hoping for a difference. 

"No, I's too dark fer me, Mark. Ya know how pale I am," Jack informs. "I tried several, but they're all too dark." That's somewhat true, but more so that Jack's feeling like he's shrinking under the intense gazes of curious, inquisitive, and hateful people. Standing in Sephora isn't his favorite place to waste his time, but it shouldn't be too out of the ordinary to find a guy lying around here. 

"What about this--"

"I think we should leave, Mark," Jack disrupts Mark's sentence with his own, feeling fed up with being the center of someone's eyesight. Rather it's homophobia or thinking that males shouldn't wear cosmetic, he doesn't find it fun. He knows that he shouldn't feel so vulnerable this way, and how he is is just fine, but it's something about people judging him that he simply can't stand. It makes his mood terrible, and he feels shitty inside-- like he's been stabbed through his torso. 

"Why?" Mark asks, knowing that Jack wouldn't just ask to leave without a reason. And it's not because the foundation isn't pale enough to accommodate such sun-lacked skin. He does, however notice how sad Jack's eyes are, and how people are giving him weird looks as he puts different choices back. "Is it because they're making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to--"

"No, I jus' wanna leave, please."

***

"Mark, ya don't have t' do that," Jack chuckles, lightly pushing his boyfriend away. His actions were contrary to what he actually thinks, though, since he loves any attention he gets from Mark in general. The fact that they're just sitting outside on the lawn furniture with Mark over him is enough.

Mark continues to kiss around and over Jack's right eye, doing his best to cancel out pain with love. It seems to work for the most part, since Jack is just soaking all of this in. "But I do. I feel terrible for it, and I don't want you to hate me." It's true. His heart is sinking farther and farther in his chest, making him feel like the lowest of the low for hurting his better half.

"Ya know I don't hate you," Jack reassures, combing through Mark's hair starting from the back. "'M just... Unsure."

Mark stops kissing Jack, and starts looking at him with several questions. He retreats back to sitting correctly in his seat rather than leaning over Jack. "Unsure of what, Jack?"

"Well, I..." Jack shifts uncomfortably. "If you'll hit me again."

"I promised you that I wouldn't."

"I know, but..." He turns his body towards Mark, in turn lifting his right leg up onto the couch.

"You don't believe me?" Mark adjusts his glasses, embracing Jack's hand in his own.

"I... I don' know, Mark."

"Jack, you're acting paranoid. You don't trust me?"

"Ya don't know what i's like bein' in an abusive relationship."

"You're not in an abusive relationship--"

"I am, though!" Jack takes his hand from Mark, and turns back forwards. He puts both of his palms together, putting them between his thighs.

How can he just reject the truth? Of course he's in an abusive relationship. Once your partner uses force against you, or belittles you, that's considered abuse.

"No, you're not. Accidents don't count. I'm not abusing you. You better not be telling people that." That sounds overly controlling, doesn't it? Well it wasn't supposed to come off that way. Mark's as calm as possible, no anger present. "I actually have been in an abusive relationship. And I'd never put you in one."

"Have it yer way. I'm goin' in the house." Jack pushes himself up from the cushions and proceeds to leave the other by himself. He'll come in eventually, but now Jack's wanting to be by himself.

***

Jack needs to talk to someone. He's been talking and interacting non-stop with Mark and Mikayla for the longest, and his usual ways need some diversity. That's why he's calling up Matthias.

"What's up?" Matthias answers cheerfully. Either he's happy for a call from Jack, or he's just happy in general.

"Can I speak t' Amanda?"

"Uh, yeah. Just a second." After this, Jack can hear shuffling, and a laugh he can only assume is from Mikayla. She's forever laughing.

"Hey, Jack?" Amanda questions. She doesn't speak to Jack too much, and vice versa. Well, times change.

Jack looks down at his fingers. "Can you come over?"

"Do... You want me to bring Mikayla?"

"No. Jus'... Bring... anything tha' c'n cover up a black eye."

***

Of any friends, he knew none of his would carry makeup, but he knew their girlfriends would. His closest girl friend is Signe, but she lives back in Korea. He couldn't ask Mary or Marzia, since they live in a different state or country. And so Amanda is the best choice.

As soon as he hears the knocks on the door, he gets there way before Mark even get a the chance to leave his recording space. Easier for both of them. Once at the door, he quickly unlocks it, greeting Amanda.

She's fumbling with her bag, but still says, "So you needed me to br--" She instantly shuts her mouth the second her eyes come in contact with the huge eye-catching bruise.

"Yeah, I know," Jack moves to the side by the door to allow for Amanda to have the proper space to walk through the doorway.

Her flowery dress blows back with the breeze through the doorway, and Jack closes the door after she walks in. "So, where can we do this?" Her stance in the living room is unwavering, as she turns to face Jack behind her. "And I want to know the story behind that eye."

"Sigh, I know. I'll say later. But we c'n just do it here." Jack gestures to the couch, taking it upon himself to sit during his sentence.

Amanda sits her bag down, and unclasps the lock, flipping the flap upside-over. "I can deal with the area around the eye, but your eye itself is red in certain places. And I want you to learn how to do this makeup, because you can't keep this on while sleeping," Amanda explains, 

"Tha's fine, I jus' really wanna cover this up." Jack reaches up to touch his eye. He didn't really notice that. "Do ya have a mirror?"

She digs into the open bag and pulls out a small, round thing. Opening it, it's a mirror inside on both surfaces.

Jack takes it from her with thanks, and holds it up to his bruise, examining it. He never really did look over his injury until now, once someone outside of the household tells of just how grotesque it actually looks. From his eyebrow to his cheek there's a dark purple path, and somewhat black mixed in. There's even the same colors just dipping towards his nose. His eye is fucked up, and too obvious. The swelling has gone down, which he's grateful for. Its just the fact that Amanda mentioned: his eye has red spots in both corners, and that's going to be very hard to explain to the camera and Mikayla. Hell, even his friends will raise questions to him. What can he say? 'Hey, my boyfriend got mad at the lights and so he attacked me with cereal'? Or the overused, unbelievable 'I walked into a door'? But he can't just tell people that Mark did it. Mark's clearly apologetic, and he wouldn't want to hurt Mark's reputation with the online community or with his friends. 

"Okay, I assumed that this was for you in the beginning, so I brought some concealer, and corrective concealer," Amanda says, holding up a tube that looks like lip gloss, and a palette with several odd colors. "I'm gonna show you how to use these both." She holds the lip-gloss-looking one up first, "This is the one you put on second to match your skin--" the colorful palette comes up next-- "and this one is to "cancel out" the dark purple, and make it look more natural, okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about makeup and black eyes, I'm sorry. ALSO, JACK UPLOADED A TEACUP PICTURE.


	11. The Zoo

"Jack?" Mark asks, caressing Jack's hair. They're both just lying in bed, with Jack on Mark's chest. His eyes are closed, but he's still awake.

The Irishman just hums, giving Mark the green light to continue talking, or ask whichever question he has in mind. Jack, personally, is just adoring this moment, and nothing can ruin it. Well, that depends on what "nothing" is.

"What happened to your eye?" Mark genuinely asks, tugging gently at his boyfriend's hair every now and then. But he hears Jack huff, so he quickly adds for no confusion: "How'd you cover it-- I mean."

"Makeup," is Jack's only answer, adjusting his head.

"You know how to use makeup, now?" Mark chuckles, and Jack can feel and hear it reverberate through his boyfriend's chest.

The Irishman groans in annoyance, because this redheaded man is disturbing his rest that he very much needs. "No, Amanda did it. Now shut up. Yer ruinin' the moment."

***

"And it happened how?" Amanda crosses her arms, looking intently at Jack, while leaning back on the park bench for support. 

"My camera, okay? I was fixin' some shit under my desk, and ya know how my camera is on my desk?" He uses his fingers to demonstrate the camera and the desk the camera is under. "And it fell when I got up from under it." That seems completely made up, but it'll have to do for now. 

"Mhm," she hums, not believing the extreme lie he conjured up. "Did... Mark do that, Jack?"

He looks down, playing with his fingers. "No, I..." He hesitated much too long. Now it's even more obvious now than ever. "He..." It's too late. If only his acting skills were good, he probably would've gotten away with the fib. 

"Jack, no. You can't let him hit you." She puts her hand on Jack's shoulder, rubbing gently. Amanda never really talked to Jack, but this time, the conversation shows that she cares for someone that she isn't familiar with. "You need to tell someone."

Jack turns her way, letting his hands fall down to his side. Yes, she's right. He should, but he's not. It's not that he's scared, like many abuse victims suffer from. It's rather simple: he loves him. That sounds very cliché, and overused, but it's true. His heart would die from never ending loneliness without Mark there. "He didn' do it, Amanda. I promise." The lie is weighing on him, but he can't let it fall. 

"Jack, are you sure?" There's no reason in the world that Amanda would render what he's saying is factual. 

There's no way that even he can believe the words leaving his mouth right now, so why should anyone else let these words permeate their ears? "Yeah, c'n we jus' change the subject?"

***

Mark holds his head in his right hand, keeping up a smile the best he can. The urge to be pissed off at his daughter is strong. "Mikayla, for the last time, Jack is out."

"But he's supposed to take me to the zoo!" She falls dramatically into the floor, kicking her feet. "I'm gonna be late, and I won't get in!"

"Jack can't drive, Mikayla." He can't deal with a child that's not done being in her terrible twos. She's been pestering him for the last ten minutes over this ballet thing, and it's nowhere near that serious. Honestly, he's had enough. But you can't tell a kid off, can you? Let alone your own.

"Then why can't you take me?"

He brings his hands together rather loudly, startling her. "Okay, how about this--" he rushes, hurrying to get this across-- "when Jack gets in, I can drive you both there? How does that sound?" He loves her, he truly does, but she's getting annoying quickly today. Getting her out of his sight in this moment would be bliss, as of right now. Luckily for him, he can hear the doorknob. "Oh!" Mark rounds the corner of the island in the kitchen. "Looks like Jack's home!" He's grateful, but overly. 

"What?" Jack asks, hearing his name be called out, but not knowing the context.

"You're home! You can take Mikayla to the zoo, right?" Once Mark's there in Jack's personal space, he whispers: "Because she's been going on and on about this forever."

Jack walks past Mark, remembering that he did tell Mikayla that he'd take her to this zoo thing. He thought that she forgot. Also venturing further into the house, he notices Mikayla lying on the floor. "Why is my child on the floor?" Jack asks, but it sounds more like a statement rather than an actual question.

"Because she decided to throw a fit since you weren't here and she'd be late." Mark follows Jack, watching as Mikayla lifts her legs up, and brings them down against the floor.

The Irishman effortlessly reached down for the girl, waiting for her to get up. "C'mon. If we don' go now, then we'll never go. Mark yer gonna take us?" Jack glimpses at Mark, knowing that he'll take them, anyway. 

"Uh, yeah. Let's go." 

*** 

Mikayla detaches from Jack's hand, running over to this huge tank much taller than her. She jabs at the tank with her index finger, looking back at Jack to see if he's seeing what she can see. "Look! What's that?" 

Honestly, Jack knows nothing about animals. "Uh, a seal or sea lion, I think," he snickers, not understanding the difference between the two very-much-similar animals. He's pretty sure that the sign says which it is, but he couldn't be bothered to check. Adjusting his glasses, he grabs Mikayla's hand again. "Le's go see the alligator over there." 

"Alligators are scary. They can eat me." Mikayla shakes her head, skipping while tracing her dad's steps towards the next exhibit. 

"Yeah, but no' if Mark and I 're here ' protect ya," Jack smiles. No, he can't protect against an alligator, but he can try. Mark would fair a better target, since he's all brawn, and Jack is all... not brawn. "Actually," he stops them in their tracks, making Mikayla fall back a little bit with the sudden action, "Le's go see those rodent things over there," Jack laughs on the last word, obviously making fun of the short animals standing on their hind legs. 

Mikayla follows him once again, avoiding to skip this time, just for not almost tripping if he stops this time. Now that they've made it to the exhibit, she's very inquisitive. "What are those? Look like cats with with mouses."

Jack laughs louder this time, resting his hands on the exhibit, since it's just to his upper torso. "Uh... I think they actually 're called cats. Ju's some kind o' cat."

"Can we get one? Can we get a cat?" 

"A cat? We already have a dog, Mikkie." Jack did not want a cat. He loves Chica, but he honestly wasn't used to the whole "dog" thing when he moved in with Mark a year or two ago. But now a cat? That's gonna be too much. Mark already told of Matt's cat, and that's enough to deter Jack from ever wanting one. "Maybe," he says, anyway, not wanting to get her hopes down. 

"What about one of those mouse cats?" 

"No, no. Mice cats are a lot o' work," Jack waves that off. 

"Actually, if I might add," Jack looks over his shoulder to see a man speaking to him, "They're called meerkats." He smiles at Jack, hoping for a smile in return, and he gets what he's asking for. "They're actually really nice and calm, so if you were to adopt one, they'd make nice pets. Though, they're wild, so I wouldn't recommend it." The man leans on the exhibit, never taking his eyes from Jack. 

Jack awkwardly looks back at his daughter, informing her, "See? I told ya they were cats o' some kind." He still faces Mikayla, but says back to the stranger, "Thank you." It's not that he's trying to be rude, it's the fact that some random guy is oddly looking at Jack. Either it's his hair, he's attracted to him, or he just thinks Jack looks like a weirdo. 

He isn't unattractive, but Jack just... really isn't interested in him. He's got that hairdo with fluffy, short sides, and the top is upwards. There are diamond or cubic zirconia earrings in his ears, a collared, red Polo shirt covering his body, and black jeans adorning his lower half. He's so young-looking, he looks like he's a previous senior in high school, finally on his summer break. 

"C'mon, Mikayla, we're gonna go see the ducks over there--" Jack tries to get away from the elephant in the park, but he's brought back to the presence of the guy again as he's interrupted. 

"Wait, what's your name?" 

Dammit. Now, he could either tell him a fake name, his pseudo, or the name he was born with. "Jack, you?" He has to look back at the man, because not looking at him while he's talking is considered very rude. At least, it is to him. 

"I'm Andrew," Andrew smiles at Jack once again, and he didn't seem as weird as he came out to be when he was first seen. "Where are you two headed?" 

"To see the ducks!" Mikayla grins widely at him, showing just how friendly she can actually be. 

"You know what you should go see?" He asks, mimicking her excitement. 

"What?" The curlicue seems so invested in what he has to say, that she lets go of Jack's hand. 

"The snakes," Andrew makes claws with his fingers, going for a childish scare. It works, making Mikayla giggle loudly. 

She embraces Jack's hand again, jumping up and down. "Can we go?" The cute eyes she makes just encompass Jack, and he has to give in. "Can he come, too?" 

"I..." The Irishman looks from Mikayla to Andrew, and back again. No, he really didn't want to bring a _stranger_ on his trip with _his_ daughter. This is just a trip for the two of them, and even Mark didn't come. If _any_ man were to accompany them, it'll be Mark. "I guess." It looks like his mind just can't say 'no' to Mikayla. Hopefully, the guy won't dampen the mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about the zoo in LA. Eh, I'm not feeling this story that much, after this chapter, to be honest.


	12. I Want You

Admittedly, Jack did not want Andre, or whomever the fuck he is, to accompany them in any way. Like he's made clear many times before, this is just for him and his daughter to enjoy. Extra people weren't invited, but now he's too far in to tell the guy to just fuck off. This entire situation would have been avoided if he were to have been an asshole in the beginning, and put his foot down, rejecting Mikayla's offer. Too bad he's too nice to do that.

"Yeah, I don't know which snake that is, but I know that it's a kind of anaconda," Andrew says to Mikayla, looking down at her, while his hand is posed on the glass. "I don't know as much about animals as I put on."

"Well, I know that it's a snake. One that's taller than you," Mikayla jokes, hoping that Andrew wouldn't be upset. Luckily, he's not. She gasps as she's caught off guard by a hand much bugger than hers grabbing the one she possesses.

Jack doesn't have just the smallest, insignificant, miniscule bit of trust in Andrew, and so that's why he takes Mikayla with him. She wants to talk more with Andrew, but he would have to move a ways away from the two to speak on the phone with Mark. He can't trust some strange boy with Mikayla, so he took the chance of looking rude, just to make sure that nothing will happen to his child while he's distracted.

"What time? I'm gonna be hella busy today, Jack," Mark informs through the phone, running his hands through his hair, staring at his reflection. He has a lot of things to do, including editing ahead of time, taking Chica to the vet, working on a project with Matt and Ryan they've all been putting off, and meeting with someone.

"Maybe in about--" Jack steals a glance over at Andrew, seeing as he's on his phone-- "two hours? I don' wanna be here tha' long."

"Yeah, I can do that. It'll just be a little after two hours, okay? That's at... Five fifteen? I think I'll be... Busy at five."

"Okay, bye," Jack begins to end the call, but he remembers, "I love you."

"I love you, too." And that's that.

The Irishman walks back with his child to the stranger, and enters a weird conversation prior to Mikayla's leaving. He didn't notice that they were even talking before he left, but that's why he needs to pay more attention to his surroundings, and what he's letting strange men say to his daughter. 

"No, I think they should have been purple," Andrew shows Mikayla a picture on his phone, tilting the screen towards her.

"Mmm, no. They're better as pink. But if anything, they'd look better as green." Mikayla looks up to see Jack, and her eyes light up. "Like that!" She points to Jack, Andrew following her direction.

"What?" Although he heard all of that, the object that's the topic is unknown.

"Flamingos," Andrew answers much too eagerly, smiling up at Jack.

The shorter of both wants to disregard the subject, but there's a question on his mind that's begging to be answered. "How old 're you?" He's expecting for a younger age than his, ending with -teen.

"Twenty-two. You?"

Well, that's something that wasn't expected, considering how young he actually looks. He does have stubble, though, not that Jack noticed earlier. Bonus points for him, since he's paying no attention to this guy. Albeit, if only Jack's own looks were as deceiving. "Twenty-six." 

"Mm, you're not that much older than me. Can I ask you a question, now?"

"Shoot," Jack's going to sit on the bench, but he's not all that keen on sharing a space with him. It sounds exceptionally insulting, but he isn't trying to come off as such a bad person. He just values having his personal space, and with no one he doesn't allow into it. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

***

 

Mark adjusts his hair one more time, frustrated that it just won't cooperate the way it should. With a sigh, he let's the hair fall, finally done playing around. His hair is messy any other day, so why does today matter? His reflection escapes the confines of the mirror as Mark's leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He almost reaches for the light, but since it's bright as day, literally, there was no need to turn it on in the first place, and he simply forgot that it was off from the beginning. The thought that his outfit might not look it's best, comes into his head, and so he retreats back into the bathroom. His reflection shows up one more time, trapped in the mirror once more. 

Vibrations resonating from a wooden surface startles him, and so Mark reaches backwards to check his back pocket for his phone. No luck. It must've fallen back when he rushed too quickly to get ready. He exists the bathroom once again, after adjusting his hoodie, and retraces all of his steps. Good thing, too, as the phone is waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs lighting up with a number. Mark didn't even look at the contact, only picking it up and pressing it to his ear. "Hello? ... Oh, yeah I'm on my way... I'll be there in a second... okay, bye." He presses the 'end' button, cutting off the last thing the caller said. Only a few more minutes and he has to leave, or a bad impression will be made. You can never recover from a bad first impression. 

"Fuck," he extends the vowel, and tips his head back angrily. He _still_ has to Take Chica to the vet. "It can wait." His keys are picked up in his hands, and he's heading towards the door, but Chica is following him. Mark looks down at her, and he sighs, slumping his shoulders. The vet really needs to look at Chica's stitches to see if they're fading correctly, and Mark just doesn't have time for it. But he has to take her, anyway. "Fine, Chica, let's go." 

Chica barks at Mark as he spins around towards her cage. Her leash is hanging just over it for convenience, and thank God for that. Picking it up, he quickly kneels down to latch the clasp over the hook on her collar, and stands up again. "C'mon, girl, let's go." 

***

Jack wasn't fond of Andrew in the slightest, but of course, he grew just a little bit on Jack. No, he didn't want to admit that, since he's flirting with Jack, but it's there. Not a romantic thing, God no, since he has someone at home waiting for him. But it's just the way that he interacts with Mikayla that he's liking. He still doesn't trust him, but he doesn't dislike him as much as the first meeting. He's till very much disliked for being annoying, no confusion. The second after that he had asked if Jack has a girlfriend, he declined. That must've been his opportunity to flirt, and Jack regrets not telling him that he has a _boyfriend_ instead, and now it'd be too late and probably rude to say it now. It has to come out eventually, though, before Andrew gets the idea that Jack's just single and ready to jump heart first into a relationship. 

"Jack!" His daughter tugs forcefully at his hand, and points in a certain direction the second that Jack looks down at the girl pulling his arm down. "There's tea over there!" 

Tea? All he can see that they've got is-- oh. "Ya want some?" Jack asks, absentmindedly walking towards the concession stand anyway.

"Do you think they have teacups?" Mikayla only answers his question with another, walking with him, and Andrew still following their steps. 

Apparently, he doesn't know when to go away, or someone else to follow, so now they're stuck with him. Something similar to new chicks and goslings being born, and following the first thing they end up seeing. But, obviously Andrew didn't see them first, so it's got to be the fact that he liked Jack way before, and used the meerkat thing to just get him a shot. Then Mikayla had to ask such a question that made him stick like glue to their fingers. Otherwise, he would've been shooting in the dark with no net or backboard. 

Andrew knows the actual drink that the two next to him are talking about, but chooses to keep quiet for sake of letting them have an inside joke, or that Mikayla's imagination is just running itself. Being brave, he gets closer to Jack, putting his arm around his shoulders, resting his hand on the right one. "Jack?"

The Irishman instantly uses the opposite arm to reach up and pick up Andrew's middle finger, leading the rest of his hand from around him, and he drops it. "Don' do that. I have a boyfriend," Jack scolds him. 

"Your boyfriend doesn't let you have friends?" The brunette asks, showing his hands palms up, questioning Jack's words. The fact that Jack has a boyfriend is shocking, but not too much, seeing as he wants to fill that spot, thinking it was empty. Well, he'll just have to work his way up to there. 

***

To put the candles on the cake, Chica's finally at the vet, and now Mark can finally meet up with Matt and Ryan. Speaking of the Devil, his phone begins to ring another time, and Matt's caller ID is taking up the screen. The American inwardly groans, and make it an outward groan, tightening his grip on the wheel. His right hand comes from two, and he slide the call over, and puts it on speaker. Better to avoid going to jail, right? "Yes?"

"We're gonna meet next week, okay? Ryan is really sick, and he's throwing up a lot, of course, and--" Matt explains.

"You're freaking out?" Mark guesses, receiving a hum in agreement. "Gotcha. I'll meet you next week." He hangs up, breathing a sigh of relief. Now, he doesn't need to rush to meet his friends. He would've already been late, since the meeting was at four, and now it's four thirty. 

Mark approaches a stop light, and lets go of the wheel to relax for a bit. He's extremely stressed, and it's not a feeling you'd learn to learn. The tension built up is going to end up being too much, but luckily, he'll have Jack back home very soon. He can take it out on Jack tonight, sexually, by all means, and it'd be better for both of them. But first...

"Yeah, I'm on my way there the second I pick someone up, first, okay? Then I'll be there for six... alright... bye, Charity."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not stopping this story. That was only said because I was veeeeeery tired, and there are exams. You know, when you get upset late at night? Yeah, that. But I'm fine, lmao. I had to get this up earlier for you guys, though, because MKXL is calling my name. <3 Love you guys. :)


	13. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this.

Mark unlocks the door as Jack and Mikayla stride to it. He was going to reach over to just open Jack's door, forgetting that they both own a little one, but remembered that she existed when he saw her head full of curls bounce up as she skipped. 

The Irishman firstly goes to the door adjacent to his own, takes the handle in his hand, and pulls the door open for Mikayla while she steps back. "Mikayla, buckle up," Jack says, the second he opens the passenger side door. He hoists himself up in the seat, looking over at his boyfriend. "Fuck, I missed ya."

Mark takes Jack's hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "It's only been two hours," Mark chuckles lowly, gripping the wheel. Although his words sound annoyed, he's adoring the fact that Jack is missing him after only two hours. Truthfully, he has missed the little leprechaun, himself. Is it natural to still be like this after dating someone for over two years?

Jack squeezes the American's hand. "Yeah, but I can do what I want." He bends his right arm, reaches behind him, clasps the seat belt in his fingers, and pulls it forward. "I can't miss ya?"

"Yes, fine. But how was the zoo?" Mark asks, feeling it's necessary to ask how the others trip went. He shifts from park into drive, and accelerates out of the parking lot. 

"We saw mice cats, flamingos, ducks, snakes, all'gators, a big brown animal with flippers-- a seal, I think, giraffes, bears, white birds with hair, American birds, owls, pointy hamsters, a jaguar, lions, and all this other stuff!" Mikayla speaks up from the back, making both parents smile, albeit confused. 

Mark looks over at Jack, and still while smiling he mouths: Mice cat? And Jack just shrugs. "What's a pointy hamster?" He turns back towards the road, focusing. 

"I don'... a porcupine?"Jack cranes his head towards the girl in the back.

"Well, I don't remember, but Andrew told me what it was," Mikayla says nonchalantly, looking out at the scenery. 

The heart in Jack's chest could be heart from miles away dropping. It would've been nothing too serious, if Mark weren't the jealous type. This thing would start something Mark wouldn't get over for a while, and make it a habit to bring him up in situations. Trust that this has happened plenty of times before, and Jack hated it every single time. 

"Who's Andrew?" The oldest of the group asks, hearing this name for the first time. 

Jack interjects, trying to end this entire thing before it starts. "He's nobody, Mark." He waves it off, hoping that'd get rid of the jealousy that will brew. 

"Who's Andrew, Mikayla?" Mark asks again this time, letting it be known that he wasn't talking to Jack. 

Obviously, she doesn't get it, or can't read Jack's facial expressions. "He's this really nice guy that met us, and told us what this animal was." 

"Oh." Mark steers the wheel left, paying both attention to the road, Mikayla, and the directions. He let go of jack's hand a while ago, but neither acknowledged it. 

The sounds of Mark's response meant that he realized that Andrew was actually nobody he should even be worried about, and that spreads relief throughout Jack, knowing that this won't become some huge thing to keep being reminded of. 

"Yeah, he was with us the whole trip, and-- oh!" Mikayla stops in her sentence. She lifts up to reach into her back pocket, and she pulls out a folded piece of paper. "This is from him." The note is directed towards Jack, and he doesn't accept it, with disdain. 

"Oh? That's nobody?" Mark glares at Jack, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Mark, please don' do this. He's nothin' important," Jack exasperates, leaning an elbow on the window sill, holding his chin in his palm. 

The American shakes his head. "No, no, I wanna know." He laughs, and looks out of the opposite window. "What does the paper say?"

Jack sighs, and rolls his eyes. "This was all nice, why'd ya ruin it?" 

"What does the paper say?" He repeats himself, still playing off his jealousy as amusement. It's too obvious, now, but why would you mention it?

"It's just..." She pauses, trying to process what's written. "A bunch o' numbers."

If it weren't bad enough, Andrew had to send a phone number for Jack, when he obviously said that he's taken. Annoying people with no morality are the worst, and Andrew just so happens to be one of them. Unfortunately, he had the displeasure of actually meeting him on a trip that was, once again, meant to be a fun thing. Now, because of all those unfortunate events, it's led up to this. To Mark being jealous. To Mikayla being oblivious. To whatever awaits when they get home. To... the outcome of this conversation, and how Mark would act on it. 

"Oh, he gave you his number?" Jack couldn't see Mark's face, but he could hear a smile on his face. "Did he flirt with you?"

"I'm no' about t' do this now." 

"So he did. You let him?" Now he's just looking for reasons to just attack Jack instead of Andrew, and that's not fair. 

He didn't flirt back, so it didn't matter if Andrew hit on him or not. Isn't that what relationship is about? You're supposed to trust your partner, not extra people around it, watching. All that matters is that Jack was loyal, and Andrew didn't respect that. He did his part, so Mark has no real reason to get his panties in a bunch. If anything, Mark should be getting at the brunette. Well, if he ever were to show up in either of their lives again. If those events play out, that'll be the day. 

"So what?" 

"Flirting is basically cheating," Mark explains calmly, but you can obviously see that that's just a ruse. 

"I didn' flirt with him, he flirted with me," Jack retaliates, because what he's saying is true. Not once did he feel compelled to flirt back with Andrew, and he expected for his occurrence in his would end at the zoo. Apparently not. "And girls always hit on you, and ya always tell me that it's nothin'. Why is this any different?"

"Because it just is!" Mark grips the wheel extremely tight, not once taking his eyes from the road, but scaring Mikayla in the back. "You're mine, and I can... be upset about this if I want." Mark instantly goes from yelling to back to how he sounded before. 

"No one c'n take me from ya, and you know that. Yer actin' like a child." There's no use in buying into this caring attitude he's painting on, because it's gonna be chipping away very soon. Does he think that Jack doesn't know him by now? 

"I'm not acting like a kid. If I don't want people flirting with you, you're not supposed to let it happen. You allowed it, so you can't complain." 

"I's not like I asked him t' offer what he was sellin'." 

"You didn't fucking return it, either," Mark comes back, and he has a point. 

"Don' talk like that in front of her." 

Sighing, he knew he shouldn't expose such a young child to such language, but his green-eyed monster got the best of him. Apologizing isn't what he wants to do, but he at least needs to for Mikayla. "I'm sorry, Mikayla. But Jack, you're still not innocent."

"Ya act like I wanted him to do that!" Regardless of his position, he faces Mark, and throws his hands up, almost touching the ceiling. "Yer blaming me fer somethin' I didn' do!" 

"Whatever," Mark takes the gear in his hand, and turns it upwards, and letting it go. "We're at home. We can talk about this when I get in the house." 

They're at home, but Jack wasn't aware of it, with how heated he is at Mark. Either they argued for a while, or neither paid attention to the way home like they should've. Either way, Mikayla is in the back, and she seems to be too quiet about the whole thing. She might be scared, or just doesn't care, but that isn't the focus right now. 

Jack unbuckles his seat belt, and lets it rear back. "Alright, Mikayla le's go in the house." He looks back at her, pulling the handle to unlock the door. Getting out, he closes the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you did, too.


	14. I'm Not Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's sex in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Is. Sex. IN. This.

Maybe he overreacted, or maybe he didn't. It can be assumed that he felt... like those that flirted with Jack would take him away, or woo him more than Mark could ever, and he'd lose the love of his life. But making Jack feel bad for someone else's action just might make Jack draw farther away, and that'd lead to someone else swooping in to pick him up. That doesn't sit right with Mark, and in chain, he gets upset. He's upset at his getting upset at the flirting, and that leads to being even more upset than needed. But how can he simply think that another won't come and take Jack away? All the mistakes he's made, and Jack still loves him? Impossible. 

"Uh, no. Not today. My... girlfriend is upset with me, and I'm mad at him-- her." An almost slip up could've cost him this opportunity. It turns out that that earlier feeling is right: she isn't too much of a fan of homosexuals. Such a bummer, and such a pretty girl is close-minded. "So, I'll have to come tomorrow instead, I'm sorry." 

"Mark, are you sure? Sure she's mad, but..." The aposiopesis following her sentence obviously meant that she cared not for Mark's significant other. 

"Which means I have to fix it," Mark snaps back. "And I'll be there tomorrow." He hangs up the phone without hearing what she had to say. Of course, that's not something you do to someone you met recently, but if she won't listen, then what else can happen? 

*** 

The sound of the front door closing prompts for Mikayla to hear it, as it reverberates throughout the house. She's holding both her hands together as she slowly walks down the stairs a minute later, purposefully not running towards the man that recently walked in. Stopping by Mark, she looks up at him with regretful eyes. 

"I'm sorry," she says, hugging Mark the best she can around his waist, and closing her eyes. 

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Mark runs his fingers through her hair, while using his other hand the best he can to hug her back. 

"I made you and Jack fight." She lets go of Mark, and her gaze connects with his again. 

That isn't true. Although she did bring up key details, it was Mark that went into the entire thing with too much emotion, and it was basically his fault. And now he's got Jack upset at him, and he has to make it up to him, or else be deemed as a terrible boyfriend. "No, no, Mikkie, it was me. I got mad at Jack. It's not your fault-- I promise." He kneels down to an estimate of her height, and asks, "Where's Jack?" 

"Jack is layin' on the couch," Jack speaks up, and Mark looks up immediately to see that Jack is indeed on the couch, but he wasn't as obviously seen as before. 

He can't hear any sounds coming from Jack's phone, so either it's on vibrate, or he's not on it. The television isn't on, so without a doubt Jack's just laying there. 

Rounding the corner, he stops at the burgundy surface. Mark places both of his palms on the back of it, and leans over to check out what Jack's up to, and if his attitude is infected with either anger or sadness. "Are you mad at me?" Jack seems to have changed his attire to sleepwear while Mark was outside, but that doesn't seem to matter.

"Nah, 'm just happy as c'n be, while my boyfriend got upset at me fer somethin' I didn' do." Jack makes eye contact with Mark, forcing a smile upon his face, that clearly meant the opposite of what he meant. "Jus' the usual." 

"Jack," Mark stretches out the second vowel, feeling the need to lighten up the mood with less seriousness. "I know it's not your fault. I'm sorry."

Sitting up and still looking at Mark, Jack says, "No, ya always get like this whenever yer jealous, and 'm tired of that. Ya always make it out like 's my fault, and tha's not fair. Ya always act like an ass over this whole thing. 'N' 's nothin'." 

Swiftly, Mark puts extra weight onto one of his arms, and crosses over the couch to sit directly by Jack, invading his personal space. Jack followed all of his movements. "Yes, I know, but--"

"Jus', " Jack waves it off, not wanting to keep this whole topic around them, or in any further conversations to be had, "Jus' forget it. I don' wanna talk about Andrew or anythin' like this." Jack moves to pick up his phone, breaking the path of sight the two had. 

The American pulls both of Jack's hands in his, making the other's task deflate, and reconciling the eye sight. "Fine, fine, but I still feel you're mad at me." He lets go of Jack's hands, once getting his point across. He'd for sure get the "Worst Boyfriend Award" if he just left his significant other upset. 

Jack sighs, "Not mad... jus'--"

"Disappointed?" Mark's eyebrows droop once that word leaves his mouth.

"Pissed!" He playfully hits his lover's thigh, laughing during the action. Even throughout the whimsical act, he still is somewhat upset. But the thought that Mark actually put his pride aside, which doesn't happen too often, to apologize is what counts. After all, it was just innocent jealousy, right? 

After laughing with Jack, his dies down, as he begins talking to Jack more. "So... you're not still mad?" 

"Oh, yeah 'm mad. Jus' cos I laughed that doesn' mean shit," Jack chuckles, getting up from the couch. "Ya still got too overemotional. 'N' I know ya won' let this go." He goes past Mark, his directory being upstairs. 

"I think Mikayla is upstairs," Mark replies, standing up along with Jack. Without looking at his lover, he says, "Put her to bed." 

Stopping in his tracks of ascending the staircase, Jack cranes his neck to look back, "Why? I's barely 5:50." 

"Put her to a nap, then," The American comes up with, remembering that he was supposed to meet Charity at six, yet he never went. Picking up Jack only took so much time, so it wouldn't have been that long since they reached home. Why did he think that it was later than it seemed? 

"Why--"

"Just do it," Mark stops Jack in his sentence, feeling that time is being wasted, no matter how much of it is forgotten. 

Without another word, The Irishman climbs the stairs, making the mental note his his mind to put Mikayla to sleep. He knows not what it's for, but he's going to do it. 

***

Mark pushes Jack back onto the bed, immediately moving over him to kiss him roughly. The kisses soon turn to nibbles and Mark tugs at Jack's bottom lip with his teeth. He licks over his boyfriend's plump lip, growling lowly. "You shouldn't question me, Jack." The American begins grinding down against Jack's half hardening cock, pulling whimpers from him. 

It didn't take long to put their daughter down for a nap, if you consider whines, stomping, and protests close to no challenge. But Jack eventually did it, only getting mad a miniscule amount. Then he came to the room to just lie there, but then Mark showed up. Mark started feeling him up by the doorway, and it was plenty obvious what was gonna happen. 

"M-Mark, please," Jack begs, squeezing his eyes shut as he throws his head back. The action felt too good, considering he and Mark haven't done anything like this for a while. 

Mark only smirks and continues moving his hips, speeding up every few thrusts. As much as he likes teasing Jack, he knew that they'd have to get on with it eventually. The jeans he's wearing won't allow too much please after a while, and a dick rubbed raw isn't the best for the mood right now. 

Jack's moans grow louder with each passing second and he holds onto the sheets below him for dear life. "Please, Mark, oh god. Not gonna last..." That's all it takes for Mark to stop his torturous thrusts. The basically dry humping is much different for Jack, considering that what he's wearing is from a completely different, soft material. 

The American starts kissing Jack again, blindly searching for the lube. Realizing that he's gonna have to detach from his lover, he decides to be quick. Leaning away from Jack, he drops his hand over the side of the bed, pulling out one of the imbedded drawers. Once the substance is obtained, he begins to bite at Jack's neck and suck purpling bruises on his skin. Sitting up, but still on his knees, he tugs at Jack's pajama bottoms, pulling them down and off quickly. He then starts palming at Jack's throbbing cock, coaxing a moan from the needy Irishman. Mark chuckles darkly, and covers his lover once again, biting harder while palming slower. "Mark, fuckin' please!" Jack groans, bucking his hips up to meet Mark's hand.

Mark licks where he had previously bitten on Jack's neck, attempting to soothe the bite-swollen skin. When Jack begins to shiver and moan incoherent babbles even louder than before, Mark decides he has teased him enough. He slowly makes his way down the other's body, biting and sucking as he goes. He reaches Jack's cock and licks at the head, causing Jack to sharply suck in air. The Irishman threads his fingers through Mark's red hair, tugging at the strands instead of attempting to rush Mark along with words. If he wouldn't listen to blatant pleas, only actions will tell the need. 

With Jack's cock barely in his mouth, Mark multitasks by spreading a generous amount of lube onto three fingers and preps his lover. By the end, Jack is a moaning mess.

Mark removes Jack's cock from his mouth, a sinful 'pop' resonating throughout the room. He then applies lube to his cock, and sits back up. Lining up with Jack's hole and looking down at his lover, he sees that Jack is a mess already: hair sweaty and going nearly every direction, marks littering his body, and panting heavily as he looks up at Mark with lust-filled eyes. Mark smirks at his work, loving how Jack is like putty in his hands.

The American slowly pushes his cock into Jack, watching his face intently for any sign of pain or discomfort. Once he bottoms out, he stops completely. It was always like this, even though they've done this plenty of times, and Jack isn't fragile and soft. 

Jack cracks his eyes open, looking up at Mark. All of the air leaves his lungs and he whimpers out a small "move". 

With pleasure, Mark nearly pulls fully out of Jack before quickly snapping his hips forward again. Jack feels like he is in heaven. 

Mark keeps the same slow rhythm; pulling out and thrusting forward. 

Jack swallows audibly and screws his eyes shut, thrusting down hard to meet Mark's movements. 

The American takes this as a sign that Jack wants more, so he obeys. He bucks his hips quickly and Jack nearly screams, digging his nails into the other's biceps. 

Mark grins, shifting his hips just-so to hit Jack's prostate with every thrust. Jack's jaw drops and he begins groaning a mantra of 'fuck's and Mark's name. "Fuck, Mark, I-- I--"

"You what?" Mark asks, knowing that he can bet all of his possessions that he can predict the exact words that Jack will speak.

"I wanna come!"

Mark's smile becomes devilish and he speeds up his thrusts. "Fucking _beg_ ," he demands.

Jack whimpers, "Please, Mark, please. Let me cum. Wanna cum so hard for ya, _please_!"

The American chuckles low in his throat, moving his hips as fast as he can. He pairs that with wrapping his hand around Jack's cock, pumping fast and rough. Jack comes soon after, screaming Mark's name as ropes of cum lands on his own stomach. The sight pushes Mark over the edge and he comes thick inside of Jack.

The two pant heavily, blissed out and absolutely wrecked. Mark pulls out of his lover after he places a gentle kiss on his lips, heading to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth. Exiting the bathroom, he comes back, and leans over his lover to wipe the excess cum off of Jack's stomach, hearing him hum as a thanks. Mark lazily throws the cloth to the side, making a mental note to wash it in the morning. He then flops down on the bed beside Jack, and the Irishman immediately cuddles up to him, wrapping his arm around Mark's waist loosely.

"Mark?" 

The American faintly hums in acknowledgement of Jack's question. 

"Where's Chica?"

Instantly, he remembers that he was so invested in the quarrel with Jack earlier, that he forgot to pick up his best friend from the vet. "Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please thank the LOVELY, and amazing writer RazorBladeCass for assisting me in writing this chapter. Lord knows I couldn't do it myself. And, tell me of any spelling mistakes and errors. Also, I'm sorry for the lack of a chapter last night. I had a friend over, and it's rude to not pay attention to a guest. So, pleeease assume that if there is no chapter, I had a friend over. :)


	15. Jellyfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably a chapter you'll hate.

The Irishman tugs on Mark's arm, trying to keep the older man in the soft, warm bed, but Mark has other plans. "Where're ya goin'?" Jack asks, not ceasing with the action of holding onto his lover's arm. 

After recording and queueing the editors to post videos for the day, both of them had absolutely nothing to do, so they decided they'd rather stay in bed for a few hours. Eventually, they'd have to detach from such a wonderful place, but Jack didn't want to do so now. The pair spend so much time away from each other as it is, being so close yet so far. Editors are possessed by both men, but they don't record videos for them. 

"Ya said tha' ya had no plans t'day," Jack whines, finally letting his boyfriend's hand slip from his grasp. 

He looks down at Jack, feeling a piece of his heart chip away at seeing Jack so needy. "Yes, baby, but I'll be back." Well, that's not a lie. 

"How long will tha' take?" Jack slumps his head against the pillow, maintaining eye contact with the man that's standing. 

"It'll be a couple hours, but I'll be back," Mark pacifies Jack, bending down to place a kiss on his lips and rubbing his hair. He returns to his past position while still looking down at the lazy man of his. 

"Where 're ya goin'?" Jack repeats his question, wanting an answer rather than love and affection or being ignored. 

Sighing, Mark drops his hands low enough for his fingers to touch the bed, putting his fingertips to it. "I'm gonna hang out with a friend today, okay? It's nothing too bad." 

The Irishman shifts his position to have one arm under the pillow he has beneath his head, and drapes the other lazily over the spot Mark left behind. "Okay. Well tell Mikayla t' keep me company then b'fore ya leave." 

***

He didn't lie to Jack, no. He did come to meet someone. Not a friend, but someone. Skipping out certain details did feel sketchy, but there's nothing to hide. If he feels that way, then why is he actually not telling Jack that he's meeting Charity? Was it so bad to leave parts of your whereabouts blank? Well, they'll continue to be blank. He simply cannot let Jack know, no matter how bad he feels on leaving his precious partner in the dark, the light will not be turned on. 

"I really wasn't too sure of where to go, but here sounds like one of the best," Mark laughs, trying to brighten up Charity's mood. She looks mad, or rather upset, but he can't tell too well.

Examining her appearance, you can clearly see that she's changed up since the last time she's been around Mark. The same, or rather similar, earrings decorated her barely-able-to-be-seen ears, as a curly, thick afro sits atop her head. Several of the curls there reflect the light so perfectly, and that can show how perfectly she takes care of them. Last time, the hair she sported was straight, but the change is much better. The grey, fitting dress she wears hugs her wonderfully, showing the curves she owns. Orang-ish-pink shoes adorn her feet, while a slightly darker colored grey hoodie is covering her arms. 

A smile forms on her lips, making Mark rethink what her mood was. "That's fine! Aquariums are pretty nice. It's calming, and that's just what you need, right?" Charity playfully pushes Mark's arm. 

"Yeah, I really do," The American agrees, knowing exactly what she's talking about. It's true, a break is well-needed, though he wasn't too keen on admitting that to Jack, Mikayla, or his fans. He's told all of them that he's fine with having something to do at all times, but that's not true. It might be true for Jack, but since Matt isn't available to edit, he's been doing it all. That's a lot, and allows for little to no free time for himself. All work and no play leave Mark a stressed and tired man. 

"Well, I'm glad you picked here. It's so pretty and full of life already on the outside. Just imagine what it's like once we're in," Charity replies, eyeing the surroundings. 

The key places her eyes land on would be the closed-off, eye-catching scenery of what can be deemed a fountain. There's a huge rail wrapped around it to keep bystanders from finding a way in. A horizontal arc is resting just behind the rail, with water rising and falling in many places. On the outside of the arc, there seems to be colorful waves, and rocks placed in many different places between the arc and the rail. Still water is resting there between any bare spaces. 

"Well, let's go in, shall we?" Mark pretends to be a servant to a queen, and bows for her. 

***

"I think... that's a whale, but I can't be too sure," Charity points upwards towards an animal hanging, almost levitating with such invisible strings, from the ceiling. "Yeah, yeah, that's a whale. It's breaching." 

Looking up, Mark sees the animal on the strings, and really looks at it. "Is that what you call it? A breaching?" 

Charity glares next to her, not believing that he heard Mark say that. Laughing, and pulling her palm in front of her mouth, she says, "No, it's breaching. Like, coming up from the water to come back down." 

"Oh," Mark realizes what she's saying, and he feels dumb for a second for actually assuming such. "Look," he puts all his weight onto one leg, points, and laughs as well, "I don't know anything about whales."

"Shut up," she giggles, motioning for him to follow her farther down the hall. But letting more of the whale into her sight, she can clearly see that it's not breaching, but the way it's facing makes it seem that way. Either way, she chooses not to mention it. 

Coming up to one of the huge tanks the Aquarium possesses, the display is divided by two dividers, making the exhibit seem to have three panels. There are fake fish on both sides of the tank, displaying information about each one. Although, neither even read the signs. They just look at the many different fish, while a diver interacts with them. Either to clean up the enclosure, or keep the fish in line, she's there. On the inside, it's huge. Any fish housing a regular tank would kill to live here. Wide open space, several rocks in varying sizes, and ocean plants littered the place, making it resemble an actual ocean. The diversity of fish proves the point even further, with sharks as residents as well. They're spotted and long, something one can assume many people didn't know existed. Bubbles rise to the top of the enclosure, the source of them must be a filter. There even stood an employee by a close proximity desk that seems extremely friendly.

Stepping up closer to the thick glass, Mark puts his hands in his pockets, and stares at the great height the water reaches, and the diver herself. "I don't know how she can do it. I couldn't be in this water." 

Charity following suit, she touches the glass with her fingertips. "Why not? You don't wanna interact with fish?" 

"No, that's not it. It's just a lot of water. What if I drowned? What if one of them attacked me? What if I get caught on something, and I'm stuck? What if--?" 

"No, this trip isn't for you to worry, Mark. You're supposed to get rid of stress. Remember?" She puts her hand over Mark's shoulder, reminding him of the purpose this trip takes on. 

Mark sighs once again, knowing that worrying will only ruin the experience. Especially since this is his first time being here, that takes away from such an opportunity. "Yeah, yeah." When the spotted shark crosses his path, he has no choice but to question what it is. "What's that?" 

The woman glances at the fish once, but has to double take. "I don't know. Just looks like a shark to me. I don't know anything about animals." 

"Neither do I. Well, I mean, I know that's a shark, but that's about it." 

Losing her sight of the shark, she turns back to Mark. "Well, let's go find some animals we do know about." 

And so they walk a bit farther. The different animals are extremely spaced out, but a little walking never hurt anyone. Seeing as one of the turns they made the ground began to dip, and the hallway became narrow, it can only be assumed they've turned towards a room going underground. The stereotypical tunnel going underwater is seen shortly after walking down concrete walls. All around the pair, sea animals of all types are swimming around them, being such a sight to see. Small, but bright, yellow lights line the path one would walk, and it adds to create such an aesthetic look for the place. 

A specific shark, that is well-known, leisurely catches Charity's eye, and so she blurts out, "That's a hammer head!" Albeit it sounds like a child pointing out a puppy, it annoys no one. 

"Where?" Mark asks, not seeing where such an animal is hiding. 

She points at the glass, doing her best to show the man next to her the fish, as far away as it is. The head immediately caught her attention, but it's farther away than the thought. "Never mind." Charity takes her fingertip from the glass. 

"It's really... deep," Mark mentions, looking upwards. 

He is correct. Normal underwater tunnels host shallow enough water that a lot of sunlight can be seen, but this one does not. Of course you can see the light up top, but the blue hue of the water really shows how deep one is under the surface. The mere thought of being under the ocean frightens Mark, and he really wishes he would've mentioned this earlier before going deeper inside, and he regrets that he only now truly felt the weight of the water coming down on him. Like the tank broke into pieces, and water seeped through the missing spaces, trapping every person that dared to come inside. He'd be stuck, and he would slowly run out of air until his lungs just couldn't take it, and they'd long for it. Inadvertently swallowing up water, and suffocating him with such a lack of oxygen--

"Mark, are you okay?" Charity asks, staring intently at the redhead that seems to be panicking on the inside. 

Silence, except for Mark's irregular breathing, and that's not good. He's still looking up, and his brows are too furrowed, and eyes too sad and frightened. 

She grips his hand in hers, pulling him forward and through the tunnel to eagerly get to the other side. It's not normal for someone to act this way, and she knows that, at least. 

***

The penguins on the opposite side of the enclosure seem to want to put on a show for the watching humans, feeling almost compelled to do so. They're black and white, but not the usual colors you'd see. They were mainly black, but there's white around their eyes, neck, and belly. Several times did they swim up to the exceptionally tall glass to both Mark and Charity, looking at them like _they_ were the real show. 

"They're cute. I-I wish we could pet them," Mark speaks up, not mentioning the sudden silence back in the tunnel. 

Maybe he wishes to forget it? Or maybe he just doesn't want to talk about it right now. Either way, Charity _is_ going to hear his side of the story.

"Are you afraid of the ocean? Or water?" She asks, getting right to the nitty-gritty. The penguins can come later. They will always be here. 

The American hesitantly breaks the gaze at the water avians, and meets Charity's eyes. He doesn't want to talk about how he acted back there, because it's not too manly to freak out over small things like a water tunnel. "Yes." But he does, anyway. It's best to tell now and avoid anything, rather than tell later and have to go into further detail. "Of the ocean. It was so deep there, and I freaked out. I-I've never been here, so I didn't know that. I-if I would've known that there was that there, I wouldn't have gone down. It was so dumb to completely act that way, and I'm sorry." 

What? Did he apologize for having a phobia? "What? You don't need to be sorry, Mark. We've all got fears, and I'm sorry that you had to experience that." 

Once again he sighs, looking back at the mammals in the water. 

"How about we go see some polar bears?" This just might make up for the sad aura that surrounds them now, and Charity will be damned if this little slip up made Mark become even more stressed than he already is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And also the most detailed so far. :)


	16. Why Would You Think That?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))

Mark picks up Jack and places him on the counter. Inserting himself between his legs, as far as he can without the counter stopping him. He kisses Jack for a few seconds, and pulls away. 

With a fading small smile on his lips, Jack asks, "Where were ya? Ya said it wouldn' take long, but tha' was hours ago..." The smile is gone by now, with Jack looking up at the man in close proximity of him. 

The American runs his palms up and down Jack's sides. "I was with a friend, Jack, I told you that." 

"Yeah, bu' who was it?" Jack faintly feels like he's being lied to, simply by the input of the sentence. He isn't being intrusive by asking this question, is he? 

Hesitation has set in, and Mark didn't think this part through. Not once did he think of coming up with a decent friend that Jack could easily believe, and wouldn't go so far as to ask who they were. "Jack, aren't you used to me leaving at certain times already?" 

Now, Mark has a point. Earlier in their relationship, Mark used to leave, as said. At specific times he would leave the house, but never would he tell Jack that it was for a friend. Of course, the younger didn't think of it as much, only certain things he had planned, or collaborations would come to mind if he ever wondered where he decided to go during the free time he had during recordings. It immediately stopped two and a half weeks before they brought Mikayla home, but started up once more. 

"Well, yeah, but..." The Irishman looks down, losing the eye contact. 

Hooking his finger under Jack's chin, Mark regains the contact again. "Baby, you don't have anything to worry about, okay?" 

"Okay."

***

"I never really thought about walking through the city..." Mark observes all of the different houses with people having open windows, allowing for people to see inside of their life for a short period. 

It was Mikayla's plan to go to the beach for a while, and Jack had chosen for them to walk through town instead of driving. It was much more fun that way. They ended up walking through and expensive-looking neighborhood, and it's pretty much silent. Every now and then, a car will drive by, or a person will greet them. It's pretty late, and just about the perfect time for a pair to go to a barren beach with their daughter. 

"Is tha' in a good or bad way?" Jack asks, watching as Mikayla jumps ahead of them. 

"In a way," Mark responds, gripping Jack's hand in his. Only after jack gave him some weird looks did he realize that he said. "A good way." 

Laughing, Jack leans up a small bit, and kisses Mark's cheek. "'M tired o' ya already."

"Oh well. You'll be tired for the rest of your life," Mark retaliates, while he begins to attack Jack with kisses on his face. Jack tries to drift away, but Mark pulls him back by his waist. 

"We gotta," Jack says between laughs, while pushing Mark away, "Watch," Although he's pushing Mark off, he loves every bit of this, "Mikayla." 

Leaving Jack finally alone, Mark keeps up his composure, making sure to have a watchful eye on the girl full of energy above them. "We're not even dressed for the beach. Why are we going?"

"Yeah, bu' she is, though. We're no' goin' in the water, ya doof. I know tha' yer not a fan o' water," Jack reminds Mark. 

If Jack didn't know by now that Mark is terrified of water the same way Jack is of heights, then there's no need to be dating for this long. Soon enough, though, they'll learn more about Mikayla and her fears and likes. That could possibly take a while. 

***

"I mean, it was good at first, bu' then it got borin' real fast," Jack clasps the top of his drink in his hands, with the straw poking through his middle and ring finger. 

Currently, the two are sitting under one of those huge umbrellas specifically for blocking out shade, and in two seats to properly keep an eye out for the girl playing in the waves not-so-far away. If anything, they're the only three there to properly enjoy such a place. Although there were a group of people a few tables away, they didn't count, since they're packing up, and on their way out. There's silence engulfing the entire place, with grains of sand that would sparkle every now and then, keeping the ground from looking as boring as normal sand would. The sun is almost dipping into a sunset, filling the place with semi-orange light. Gentle waves of darkening-blue water wash up to erase any footprints forgotten by Mikayla, or any previous strangers, keeping the area clean and fresh for the next visitors. Tables with two to four chairs weren't as often as you'd think, but they're there, popping up every other place. 

"Really? I guess that's why I never bought the game. I mean, I can see why people like it, but I don't care for those." 

The topic of the conversation is Mortal Kombat XL, and how much of a waste it would have been if Mark were to spend his money on such. To Jack, it was only interesting to the point of making a video with Felix, and that's about it. After that, the game was put up, and only played four or five times after that in private. Now, it's just a game gathering dust. Luckily, there's space for Mark to get one extra game, while MKXL lacks on his system. 

"Look, look!" Mikayla runs up to the pair, showing off the newly-found item in her hand. 

Neither of them noticed she had come up to them until now, and that's not good. If you didn't notice that your child is next to you, then how will you notice that she could possibly be drowning meters away? That will need to change immediately. 

She has both of her hands side by side, and her fingers folded over whatever lies beyond them. "I found them in the water." Mikayla uncurls her fingers, and several small shells lie in her palms. She steps closer to the table and puts them on the top. "I wanna keep them. Can I?" 

"Of course. Where will you put them?" Mark asks, staring at the abandoned homes. 

"I don't know. Maybe when we get home, I'll know." Mikayla does her best to split up the shells evenly down the middle, and give both her parents an even amount. "I want you to take this one," She tells Jack, giving him the greater amount. "And you take this one." Mark gets the fewer amount of shells. 

"Why does he get more than me?" Mark asks, rising up a joke just for play, since he truly doesn't mind the number. 

examining the shells between both men, and soon realizing that Mark is joking, she backs up, preparing to run back to the water she emerged from just before. "Because I like green more than red!" And that's the last of her before she's back by the shore, and playing with the water and porous sand. 

"Are we putting these in our pockets?" 

"We can, bu' we'll worry later," Jack removes the thought of the shells from both their minds, bringing them back to an earlier conversation. "You really don' need t' get it. It's hard fer it t' register the moves ya put it, and t' put 'em all together." 

"What do you mean?" Genuinely, he's asking. He hasn't played the game in depth for himself, but Jack was well at demonstrating. He's seen jack lose and win his share of fights, but didn't know if it were hard or not to do them. It seemed easy, but what does he know?

"Oh, yeah, the moves can't be registered fast enough fer yer hands, and then ya end up doin' other stuff than ya wanted. Plus, all people did online was choose generic characters like Scorpion or Sub-Zero. I mean, Felix played with Takeda every now 'n' then, but other than that, no diversity."

"Who're the newer characters?" 

"A lot o' 'em 're kids o' the older ones. Like There's Cassie Cage, 'n' she's the daughter o' Sonya and Johnny Cage. I dunno know if ya know them, but still. Then they're new ones that fit inta story mode, but they're not all tha' important. 

"Some o' 'em changed outfits 'n' looks, bu' tha's about it. A' least I think so. I never really kep' up wit' it. I jus' know the basic characters. 'N' even on 'em I lack anythin' new fer 'em." 

"I didn't know they kept making newer games after about the second or third one. I didn't hear about any of them at all until MKX came out," Mark replies, showing any knowledge he knows about the game out there. 

As they continue their conversation, the people tables down were just now getting up to leave. They were procrastinating much earlier, but their things are ready to leave, and so are they. Since Mark and Jack are located by the entrance, which is the closest table to being here one minute and gone the next, they have to walk by them. With two females and two males, they make a cliche group of friends, talking and laughing before they pass the pair sitting alone. Even though he shouldn't have, Mark still watches the group walk by, even bothering to turn his head at one of the females that have gone past. 

That move is only dumb, and he's sure to regret it. He knew that that move was stupid like no other, with Jack looking directly at him, and even turning back to face his lover proved a challenge. Not because of the well-endowed female, but because he didn't want to look Jack back in his eye after such a task. 

Jack furrows his brows, and has shock written all over his face. Did Mark actually do what he thinks he just saw? How disrespectful can he be? "Why would you do that?" 

Finally facing his boyfriend, Mark intertwines his own hands together underneath the table. "I'm sorry." 

"Can ya a' least do that when yer not around me?" 

"I told you I was sorry. What else do you want? I can't change what happened." The American sits upwards, changing his slouched position. 

"Ya didn't need t' do that. I's disrespectful."

"I'm a guy, Jack. I'm going to look at girls. It's what we do," Mark replies, trying to get Jack to understand the male anatomy.

"No, yer accountable fer yer actions, Mark. Tha's not a "boys will be boys" thing." 

"Well you look at other guys!" He detaches his hands, throwing them upwards. His voice isn't full on yelling, but it's making its way there. 

"Not as obvious as that! We're sittin' here talkin' 'n' shit, 'n' ya jus' look over a' her? How am I supposed t' feel 'bout that?" 

"Well, I'm here with you, and not her! She's not even all that!" 

"Ya still looked at her, 'n' tha's rude as fuck!" Jack almost knocks his drink over, but all is fine. 

"You're doing too much over nothing! It's not like I hit on her, like you were with Andrew!" Mark throws Andrew back up in Jack's face, after saying he wouldn't. That's fine, because Jack knew he wouldn't keep true to that. 

The Irishman huffs, "I didn' flirt with him! Stop bringin' it up!" 

"Well, you let him do it!"

"Why are ya turnin' this back around on me?! All I wanted was t' talk t' you, bu' yer ruining it!" 

All of this seems to be Mark's fault, but that's not how he feels. Jack keeps making things blow out of proportion, when it's not needed. This entire thing could've ended where Mark apologized, but now it's prolonged into a quarrel he doesn't quite need right now, especially in a public place. 

Abruptly standing up and pushing his chair backwards, Mark says, "I'm getting fucking tired of you!" He points at Jack with a bent arm. "You're annoying the fuck out of me, and I don't need this shit right now!" 

Repeating Mark's actions, Jack retorts, "Well yer doin' the most compared t' me! What kinda boyfriend 're you?! Ya-- ya look at girls when I'm around, and ya gave me this fuckin' black eye, ya insult me in front of people, 'n' ya go against what I say! If anythin', I should be the one sayin' yer annoying as fuck, Mark!" 

Mark let's those words sink in... really listening to what Jack has to say. Even though he is right about all he's saying, he cannot feel compelled to fix this, or make it all better. All that can happen is anger... and a lot of it. He can't help that he's becoming more tense and bitter after every second. "You know what... you know what, Jack?" He looks from the water to Jack, and back to the water, repeating this a few times. "I think we should go swimming. Don't you think?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleeeeeeeeeease tell me of any errors and mistakes!


	17. Everything is Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you. :)

"We're no' dressed fer swimming, Mark," Jack lets out a breath, and tries to recollect his breathing pattern. He's wading with Mark, and his ankles and feet are much too cold. They're in California... why is the water feeling like it's imported from the coldest depths of the Arctic? Maybe he's just cold, himself, or he's just experiencing a contrast due to the heat. 

Mark is still pulling Jack's arm, doing his best to make Jack come in deeper than his lower shins, but Jack is refusing to do so. 

"Mark... please, stop," The Irishman begs, hoping Mark will listen, and they can all just go home, now. It didn't seem much like it, but it's been a while, and with the ever reddening sunset, they'll need to go home soon. Even though he's being pulled farther and farther, his legs didn't stop moving to match with Mark's. "I'm cold, Mark," Jack whines, shivering as he speaks. 

"Jack, quit acting that way..." The American looks back to smirk at his lover, and turns his body fully around to face him. Gripping both of his wrists, Mark continues pulling Jack farther into the currents. 

"Mark... where's Mikayla? 'M worried abou' her..." He glares to the side of him, and then to the opposite. He still can't see her. 

"She's just playing in the sand, baby, stop being like that." 

The pressure and weight of the water is restricting both of them from moving more and more, making it harder for their legs to continue any extra distance. Now they're almost to their stomachs, and Jack's full-on feeling like he's dying of hypothermia. It's much too late to be here in the water, because the sky is getting dark quickly. The silence around them all is deafening, and it's almost too silent to be sane. The only thing you can properly hear is the water and both men's breathing. Sometimes Mark will give a reply or Jack will complain, but that's only that. 

Finally stopping in his tracks, Mark closes the distance between himself and Jack, making the moment feel romantic despite the cold nipping at Jack's skin. "Jack, you know I love you, right?"

The sky above isn't becoming dark as a result of the sun, but now anyone can realize that clouds are building themselves up above, and are clogging up the view from the sky itself. They possess a dark tint, and one can assume they carry rain with them.

"I think so," Jack lets Mark guide his arms over his shoulders, and keeps them there. "Ya haven't been showin' it." 

Mark takes his glasses off, matching Jack. He hasn't been wearing his glasses lately, and it's unknown why. He drops his glasses into the water, but pays no mind. "Oh... why would you think that?" His voice drops an octave, and it seems too suspicious. 

"Have ya... have ya been payin' attention t' this--" 

"Jack, I dropped my glasses. Will you get them for me?" A few of those syllables were much too stretched, but Jack didn't need to worry too much about it. 

Without answering, he backs up from Mark, effectively looking for the lenses through the transparent water. He reaches down to prod the water for them. After missing, he tries again. 

Mark is watching him from above, flexing his fingers. "Did you get them?" 

"No... I can't see them--" Suddenly, he's not looking at the water anymore, but _inside of it._ He could've been just clumsy, and maybe tripped. Simple. But he was positive that _hands_ were on his back, _pushing him down farther._ Struggling against it fairs no use. Mark is too strong to put an opposite force against his. Is this really happening? 

Mark notices that Jack has turned against him, and is now doing his best to face upwards. Adjusting his hands, Mark lets up, and allows for Jack to come up for air. 

Irregular breathing and all, Jack come up with a wet face and lungs deprived of air. He wants to scream, and ask for help, but who will help? _Mikayla_? Abruptly before catching his breath fully, Jack is shoved back under for a second time. 

For some reason, this is driving Mark. The feeling of Jack's life resting between his fingers is fueling him, and he cannot stop drenching Jack underwater. If he were to stop, he wouldn't be able to live with himself having Jack hate him, and possibly report him to the authorities. _He can't... he can't do it. He can't do it. He can't do it. He can't do it. He. Can't. Do. It._

All of the fond memories with Jack... all of the times he's kissed him, hugged him, told him he loves him. The times Jack has cuddled up next to him, when Jack comforted and held Mark whenever he cried. The inappropriate times they would fool around in public, the jokes and banter they told each other, and the loud laughs Jack would let out every time Mark would make a pun or joke. Every time Jack called him a 'doof', or when Mark would kiss Jack's forehead whenever he's upset. Doing his best to make sure Jack fell asleep before him, and then spooning with him. Helping Jack come up with things for his videos...

Now Mark decides to bring Jack up once more for air, and this time he hooks his hands under Jack's arms, picking him up and doing his best to wrap Jack's legs around his waist, and his arms around his neck. The younger man feels like a doll in such a state. Walking forward, he brings them to somewhat shallow water, though it's now up to Mark's knees. He wants to let Jack go... and leave him. To find someone else. Someone better. Someone who won't purposefully drop their glasses. But he can't let Jack... go. If Mark cannot have him...

The Irishman didn't fight against it, but just went with it. There isn't much he can do, since Mark would likely drown him, if not careful. He would love to scream, but that's not plausible. Being under the eye of an abusive significant other is risky. If anything, he'll have to pretend until it's all fine. Hugging Mark around his neck tightly, he buries his face there. 

Mark slowly drops to his knees, and pries Jack from his body. Jack's holding onto him pretty snugly, and it's a challenge at first, but it's done. "Jack..." It started raining earlier, but only now can Mark truly notice. He can't do it. He can't do it. He can't do it. He can't do it. 

Jack lets go, and sits on the sand underneath him. His lower body is submerged, but not he's becoming much too familiar with the water surrounding him. He chooses not to answer Mark, but only to look down at his own fingers, recollecting his life. He's here... and he should've left much earlier. Much earlier in the relationship. The first time Mark hit him, he should've left. He shouldn't have trusted him. He shouldn't have forgiven his abuser. That means that they can just use their sweet words to turn you around, and make your thoughts feel wrong. 

"I'm so sorry, Jack." Mark gently pushes Jack back, straddling him. The look of confusion and betrayal on his face can say it all. Now, he forcefully pushes Jack backwards, and his head dips into the water. Clasping his hands around Jack's neck, Mark shoves him under, and--

Mark jumps awake, sweating profusely. The covers pool at his waist, making him much hotter than he already is. Oh, God, he's sweating much more than he though he was. The shirt he's wearing is completely drenched in the back, and he has hair sticking to his forehead. Oddly enough, he can hear rain bouncing off of the roof outside. Running his hands up and down his face, looking around the dark room. All he knows is that Jack is sleeping peacefully next to him, and Chica is on her dog bed a few feet away. 

He sighs loudly, and falls back against his pillow, and reaches up to grip both sides. He pulls them against his head. All he can do is take this time to think, and wonder why he had a dream about drowning the love of his life. He has no real reason, and that might mean that this dream is simply something out of the blue. But as he closes his eyes, he can hear the ceiling asking for him to look up at it. Opening his eyes once more, he stares at the ceiling with worry on his brows. 

_Mark, are you okay?_

He bites his lip, and turns the opposite of Jack. Bringing the pillow with him, he effectively has it over his head to avoid the voices asking him questions. 

_Mark, are you okay?_

Now he turns on his stomach, and squeezes the pillow over his ears, groaning. 

_Mark, are you okay?_

_Are you okay, Mark?_

_What's wrong, Mark?_

Did you--

Mark clenches his teeth together before throwing the pillow across the room, and sits upright. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Leave me alone!" He yells into the room, it weakly echoing back to him. The questions are attacking him, now, and he can't do it. He can't deal with this right now. It's too much for him to handle. 

"Mark, wha's wrong? Why're you screaming?" Jack speaks up out of nowhere, and it startles Mark. 

The voice of his boyfriend brings him back to reality. He's sitting in bed with Jack... and they're not at the beach. They're not in the water. Jack isn't drowning. Everything is fine, but he can't do it. "Jack, I..." Making eye contact with him, he feels all of his emotions welling up in his throat, begging to come out. "I'm... sorry, Jack." 

"What?" Now the Irishman sits up, and scoots closer to the redhead. 

"I..." His eyes became glossy, and the dam behind them couldn't stay put for longer. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'm so... fucking sorry." 

"Wh--" 

Mark pulls Jack up to him, and engulfs him in a tight hug. Placing his head between Jack's shoulder and neck, losing his composure. Fat tears left him, and so he hugs his boyfriend even more. "I'm sorry for everything, Jack. I'm sorry for insulting you. I'm sorry for-- for hitting you. I'm sorry for ever yelling at you. I'm sorry for being disrespectful. I'm sorry for looking at that girl. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." _Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry._ His voice breaks as he sobs, and he can feel Jack running his fingers through his hair. 

"Mark..." He honestly doesn't know what to say. What happened to him during his sleep? He knows what Mark is talking about, with that girl and everything. They had this huge argument. But why is he sweaty and crying? "I forgive ya, Mark. But why are ya sweaty 'n' cryin'?" 

"That doesn't matter... I just want you to know that I'm sorry." Mark sniffs, and Jack laughs from the feeling of it on his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))


	18. He Can't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, I know.

"Mark, Mark, I's... It's okay..." Jack hugs his arms around Mark's neck tightly, comforting him from crying. He still isn't too sure of why Mark is crying, but it can only be assumed that he's just extremely sorry. Or emotional. One of them is taking over his emotions, and that's not good. 

Sitting upright from Jack, Mark wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "No, Jack, n-no it's not. I'm not a good boyfriend to you, and you know it." He looks down. His tears are to the point where they don't want to fall anymore. 

Intertwining his hand with Mark's, the Irishman leans in to attach his lips to the somber man's. He then pulls away, connecting both their gazes. "Mark... sure you are... quit acting tha' way."

_Quit acting that way..._ Is what Mark can hear, but it's not from Jack. Those words keep repeating over and over... 

"Mark, are you okay?" Jack places a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, honestly worried for him. 

He has his fingers through his hair, and he has his hands balled tightly. A frown is evident on his face. "Jack, I can never get shit right. I-- I... I can't even be the right boyfriend for you. I can't-- I can't-- I can't even take care of you, Chica, and Mikayla. I'm not... I'm not funny enough, or good enough. I can't control myself, Jack, and I-- I... I can't, Jack. I can't. I can't. I just can't." 

"Mark, stop. You are good enough. You are the best, and most wonderful boyfriend I could ever have, Mark. I know that ya've done a lotta shit, but Mark I c'n get past that. Yer everything that you said ya aren't, and think you aren't. Why're you saying all of this?" Jack encloses Mark's hands, and gently tries to take them from his hair. If he can do anything, he's going to help out the man next to him, and coax him back to sleep. 

On the surface, it only seemed like a dream. It only seemed like something out of the blue that would mean nothing. But this time, it felt so vivid. The actions of the surreal experience almost feel like something that's _being predicted._ And Mark can feel every single bad thing he's ever done to Jack fall onto him, crushing him. Along with that, the dream brought back several things he's been trying to get over, and sweep under the carpet forever. But now the carpet is gone, and everything comes at him all at once. _He can't handle it._ This situation is too much for him to handle...

***

The Irishman comes up behind Mark while he's recording, and it makes the redhead jump from the sudden hug. He hadn't noticed Jack was coming up to him, regardless of how obvious he had been. 

"What are you doing?" Mark asks while laughing, and covering both of Jack's hands with one of his own, where Jack's crossed around his chest. 

"I can't just hug you?" Jack asks. He kisses the top of Mark's hair, and lies his cheek there. He instantly felt uncomfortable as a result from the headphone's that the man is wearing, so he pulls them down onto his neck. In honesty, he hadn't just come to hug him out of love, but Mark didn't need to know that.

"Yeah, I guess so, but I'm kinda recording right now..."

"And so? They c'n get a nice septiplier moment." He nuzzles into Mark's fluffy hair for extra emphasis. 

"All this fluff is ruining the game, don't you think? It's supposed to be dark."

"It is? Doesn' look too much like it. All I c'n see is normal, everyday things."

"Everyday? Jack, these are serious things that are happening. They're upsetting and sad," Mark retorts, pointing to the screen. He even looks back to make sure the other man is looking at what he's playing. "Jack, this guy I'm playing as is in a terrible situation. He's still living in this house, even after all the shit that's been happening in it. It started breaking down, but he's still there."

"Why?" 

"He loves the house. But it's because his wife and kids died there. They're haunting him and stuff. Jack, you wouldn't get it." Mark waves his hand like Jack's just refusing to understand the entire game, and what he's getting at. "I won't go into the really deep details and all that. It comes later, but you just should know that it gets much worse."

***

Lying on Jack feels so foreign, but so comforting. Especially since he has his head on his chest, and Jack's fingers are combing through his hair, making a mess of it. They haven't taken up such a position in a very long time. Jack, himself, loves to lie on Mark, and have his body between the man's legs, but now it's switched. Jack suggested it, but Mark didn't complain or reject the idea. Surely, he loves it. It makes him feel warm and protected. Now he completely understand how Jack feels, and why he falls asleep so easily on him. Falling asleep is almost his journey, but he knows he can't just do that. Regrettably, he must get up. 

Mark moves to sit up, but Jack pulls him back down, and holds him there. "Stop. Where're ya tryna go?" 

"I really need to go somewhere, Jack. But I promise I'll be back. It won't take long," Mark reassures, craning up to kiss at Jack's neck, since that's what he can reach. 

Sighing, Jack loosens his grip, and kisses Mark's forehead before he fully gets up. "How long?" He's only asking because he doesn't want another thing to happen similarly to earlier this morning. Now, Jack is very tired, and all he wants right now if for Mark and him to go to sleep together. Considering that Mark wakes up at about the same time Jack is going to sleep, neither of them got an enormous amount of sleep. The episode took almost two and a half hours, stalling both of them from what they desperately needed to do. 

"A few hours. I'm sorry." The redhead fully stands up from the mattress, and stretches. As much as he wants to cuddle up with Jack and talk, he can't. As much as he would love to hear the gentle snores from Jack, as Mark slept on his chest, he shouldn't. He'll have to wait until he gets back. 

His videos have been slacking lineally, and the funny things to say in between the blank spaces lack anything you'd even snort at. The comments have noticed this change, but he hasn't read any after the first few videos. The onslaught of tweets he'll usually put out have become more and more inspiring, and less and less funny and creative. It wouldn't need any sleuthing to see that he's honestly trying to make these videos decent, but he's just been having too much stress, and many more. But luckily he can then come home to Jack. _His Jack._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's short, but I procrastinate so much? I take all day to write 1,000 words and then I put out short, shitty chapters. I'm sorry.


	19. Colors

Charity messes with one of the curls that strayed from the uniform of the rest, finally catching up with Mark before he leaves. She stops his car before he has the chance to leave, and waves his phone in her hand, before him. "You left something." She smiles that bright smile, and Mark can't help getting lost. 

Oh, how beautiful she is. With the way her curves are absolutely perfect, the way he curls bounce when she walks, when she smiles, how funny she can be, the unknowingly fact that she could be a model, never has a bad side, the ways she walks, the kindness she possesses, her love for animals and video games as well as Mark's, the way she cares for his emotional and mental state, and everything else that just beckons for Mark to come in. 

"Oh, how dumb am I," Mark feigns fainting and playing stupid, all for fun. "I guess I... just got caught up, and I forgot it. That's all." Mark watches as she places the phone gently on the seat, and crosses her arms against the window sill. 

"Well, how can I call you if your phone is here?" She points behind her, at the place she's the most familiar with, and had the wonderful chance to bring Mark to. 

"You could always-- never mind," The American stops himself, and lets go of the steering wheel. 

"Right," Charity says, stretching out the vowel in between, expressing her point firmly. Smiling, she backs up from Mark's car. "I'll see you next time, Mr. Fischbach." Her finger resembles a gun, so she holds it by her head, and points it at Mark, while poking her tongue out at him. "Remember what I said." And with that, she turns around.

He sits there for an extra few seconds, watching her go back into the building, before he takes the wheel into his hands once more. 

***

Mark walks through the front door, and he instantly sees that no one can be found, including the happy dog that usually greets him when he enters the humble abode. That would be expected, however, but that's normal. If anything, Jack will be upstairs with Mikayla.

"Babe?" He calls, walking up the stairs. He doesn't get an answer immediately, but he isn't ignored completely.

The second he reaches the top of the stairs, he's engulfed in a warm hug around his neck. Wrapping his arms around Jack's lower body, he then squeezes tightly.

As much as he wishes that he didn't sound needy, Jack cannot help it. "It's almost nine, Mark." He nuzzles into Mark's neck. 

"I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't watching the time." Mark drifts his hands downwards, "Come on, I don't wanna fall down the stairs." His hands hook just under Jack's butt, hinting that he wants for his boyfriend to wrap them around him.

The Irishman abides. Mark's waist is gripped tightly by Jack's limbs, and so Jack closes his eyes. Obviously Mark is going to carry then to their room, so he isn't going to get too comfortable in Mark's arms.

The American pushes forward to their shared room, and plans to use a free hand to twist the knob for opening the door. But the door is already slightly opened. Jack must've left it that way before he greeted Mark just mere time ago. And with that, he still prods the door open with his fingertips.

"Is that Mikayla?" Mark asks, sitting his boyfriend on the bed.

"What other little girl would be in 'r bed?" Jack moves some of his hair out of the way.

"How do I know you don't have some woman in our bed while I'm gone?" Mark jokes, rubbing Jack's hair like he would with Chica.

The Irishman closes his eyes once more, letting Mark play with his hair. "Because I'm gay."

"Good point," The redhead agrees, leaning down to put a kiss on Jack's forehead. "She's asleep?" It came out as more of a statement rather than a question, and so it gives Jack to wrong impression.

"I know. M'gonna put her in 'er bed," Jack offers, but Mark rejects that.

"I'll do it, I'll do it. You get ready for bed."

"I can't. I hafta edit my video. I'm already far behind, 'n' I can't keep wasting time." He looks over at the girl sleeping in Mark's spot, and slides over on the bed, standing up. "I'm already leavin', so I'll do it. _You_ get ready fer bed." He pulls the covers back from her body, and picks her up.

"Okay." There was nothing else that Mark could say, and he isn't going to argue with Jack over who needs to carry the child away. One, that is silly and foolish. Two, she's asleep.

"Goodnight," Jack kisses Mark, and retraced their previous steps out of the room. He can't close the door. But he expects that Mark will do it for him.

Only now does Mark realize that he's been standing in the same spot when Jack left. Eventually, he's going to have to move, and that's now, apparently. 

Moving one foot in front of another, he shuffles out of the room rather than going for bed. Although it's nothing bad to be worried about, he still looks down the hallway for Jack. He can here Jack talking and doing his rhyme scheme. Smiling to himself at the childish man, he's glad that he chose him. If anything, he plans to "husband him up" one day. Maybe sooner than he thought. Anyway, as he walks down the hall, he stops at Mikayla's door. Hesitating, he twists the knob, and looks inside to see the giddy girl is awake, and feigning sleep.

He feels sneaky and creepy while walking into her room. How would she feel waking up to see one of her parents snooping around her private domain. Regardless, Mark does his best to keep his foot steps silent. He still doesn't want for her to wake up, no matter how innocent his actions are, she might not go back to sleep.

Still walking, he approaches the dresser that Mikayla owns. Mark isn't invasive enough to open in, but he still looks over the surface of it. Unfortunately, it's not there. Looking back to see if Mikayla stood tall and awake, he's happy that she isn't.

He should have looked over the room way before he began snooping, yet he didn't. Such a dumb mistake on his part, because he looks like a pedophile that can't keep his hands to himself.

"What the fuck," Mark whispers. He forgot that he is indeed in the dark. He wants to turn the light on, but that would make matters worse.

He looked on the dresser, the little table she owns in the middle of the room, the two drawers by her bed, and even on her bed. Though, that proves no luck for him. He was so close to just forgetting it, but there they were... On the floor... By her bed... Before he even entered. His dumbass should have looked properly.

The redhead mentally slaps himself for being so stupid. He strides over to the book, and the colorful friends next to it. Squatting down, the book and crayons end up in his hands, and he's instantly standing upright again. 

***

In short, he feels like a child again. The second he picked up one of the crayons, his entire childish mind was untied, and was free to go. Although he is forever childish, this time it's worse. Not as in... a bad way, but he's feeling much younger than 26. Maybe it's the fact that the pictures in this book are little puppies, and mazes, or if it's the crayons, or maybe just because he knows a child owns this, but the book has childish things seeping from it. He feels silly and childish nonetheless.

Mark feels like he's been coloring for only a few minutes, but when Jack makes himself visible in the room, he's surprised. "That was quick."

The Irishman has confusion etched on his face as he gazes at the unsuspecting man. "I's... It's four in the morning, Mark." Jack notices that Mark's hands are occupied. Stalking over to the side of the desk that's being used, he can tell that Mark isn't editing, like he suspected. "You're... coloring? Isn't that Mikayla's?"

The American quickly pulls the book from the desk. Though, it faired no use. Jack already saw it. "No," he denies, shoving the book far under his desk. "Shouldn't you be going to bed?" 

"Uh huh," Jack cocks one of his brows, turning away. "Come 'n' go to sleep." He throws himself onto the bed, feeling extremely drained of any and all energy he usually possesses. 

Mark sighs, and picks up the headphones he's been neglecting. "I can't." As much as he would like to got to sleep and hold Jack with him, his career needs him, and he needs it. "I have to record, baby, I'm sorry."

He seems to be apologizing a lot lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charity told Mark that coloring helps to relieve stress, so that you're not confused. And, chapters will be delayed so that they're longer. No more daily uploads. :) <3


	20. Who is This? (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I just wanted some light smut, because why not? And, expect a chapter named "This is the Night". :))

Mark had all of this figured out. Well, he did before he fell asleep on his desk, and left the camera on while trying to edit and record. One of the flash games bored him to sleep, and now he has to edit out and delete so much footage of his sleeping. Lucky for him, he has the lovely Jack to assist. 

Gently prodding Mark, Jack tries his absolute best to wake up the drowsy man, but it doesn't work too well. "Mark, get up," he whines, half expecting that to magically work for him. Although it doesn't, he cannot leave Mark here to sleep. It's bad enough that he sits at his desk for hours on end. Sleeping here is just unhealthy as it is. "Get up." Jack pushes him more forcefully, making Mark stir. 

Mark must not have slept there for as long, because it's still dark outside. If he weren't backed up on videos before, he is now. 

"Go away," The redhead groans, lacking the motivation to get up and move somewhere else. "I'm not sleeping." Mark turns his head towards the wall rather than to Jack. 

"Oh? Then why could I hear you snorin'?" 

"It was to make you think I was sleeping. Go away." He buries his head farther into his arms, trusting that Jack will allow for him to stay here and maybe get back pains from slouching over. 

"Oh? Then why didn't ya answer when I called you?"

"Because I hate you. Go away." 

"You hate me?" Jack laughs, rubbing his palm over both of Mark's shoulders, back and forth. Well, if he hates him, why not see how much he does? 

"Go... away," Mark stresses once more. 

Raising both of his hands, the Irishman backs off. "Fine, if ya hate me so much."

Of course, he figures that Jack left by now, or at least went back to bed, and so he finally relaxes back in his sleepy state. He wasn't listening too well, though, because he knows not of where Jack went, or if his footsteps disappeared onto the bed, or out of the room. Regardless, he's too tired to get up and see which. "Tired" isn't even a word that could suffice. If anything, he's drained. He knows where it's all from, but he refuses to acknowledge it. Something that won't prove effective in the long run. 

As soon as he feels he's gotten at least one percent of energy and wants to crawl into bed just like Jack, he can feel his legs being spaced apart. Looking up over his arms, he can only assume it's Chica. That's what she does, after all. Instinctively, he uses up that energy he charged up and reaches down to pet her. Surprisingly, her fur feels much different. 

"That feels nice, but I'm not Chica," Jack speaks up, and he can see Mark jump a little bit as he makes himself much clearer under the desk, and comes up on the proper side. When Jack spaces out Mark's legs even more, to get between them, he rolls the chair back a bit. Wrapping his fingers around Mark's calves, he pulls him towards himself once again. 

"Jack, what the fuck are you doing?" The redhead successfully sits up in his chair, with only a little pain spreading over his back. 

Ignoring that question for a few seconds, Jack continues his actions. He looks up at Mark, and somewhat-blindly grabs for waistband of his pants. "Shut up." Luckily for him, Mark chose not to wear jeans earlier, but those black drop-crotch pants. They're easier for Jack to pull down; those pants were always his favorite when it came to times like this. 

Leaving it at there, Mark decides that he'd rather sit back and be quiet, since Jack hasn't done this since... forever. See, Jack's gag reflex isn't the best, so these came every 50 years. As much as he does love this, he has to keep up with Jack's little game. He knows very well that he wouldn't just randomly want to have a dick in his mouth, so this has to be because of the dumb "I hate you" thing. Well, Mark can play along. Well... he can try. "What's your game, Jack?" 

"What game?" Jack asks innocently, as though he isn't working his way up to this, and about to get Mark to admit that he-- indeed-- doesn't hate him. "I's not a game." Albeit he knows that Mark loves him unconditionally, he must get Mark to say he doesn't hate him. Yes, it's a childish reason, but it's all in fun, so, what does it matter?

Hooking his fingers through the band, he tugs at them, with difficulty. He does get them down, though, even though Mark refuses to sit up slightly to allow for this to happen. Keeping them at Mark's thighs just above his knees, Jack stops forcing gravity to do its job. "Why ya playin'?" 

"What playing?" It doesn't make the smallest bit of sense of what he just said, but any excuse to mock Jack is nothing wasted. "I'm not playing." 

Jack ignores that and opts for eyeing his reason for all this. The Irishman's palm meets Mark's soft dick encompassed in blue fabric. "Yer not even hard," Jack whines. Nor is he even half-way there. He didn't know what he expected. What... was he hoping for morning wood?

"Duh. You just came and tried to sexually harass me. Females aren't the only ones who need foreplay, Jack." 

"Shut up," he repeats once again. "I know how dicks work, ya fuck." His fingers pull at Mark's pants again, and this time they kiss the floor. Not wanting to get all the way up to have tongue in Mark's mouth, and then getting back on the floor, he lets the laziness consume him. And so, he stays in that spot, with a different plan. Leaning forward, he mouthes at Mark's clothed member, and licks at it several times. 

His boyfriend hasn't even started anything, yet he already feels himself becoming needy. Mark clasps Jack's hair in his hands, trying to get the message through. 

Under his tongue, kisses, and touches, Jack can feel that Mark's becoming hard, and that has to mean he's doing something right, and this auspicious action isn't unnecessary. Even so, this is his first time actually doing this. Not the whole dick-in-mouth thing, but usually Mark is fully erect when Jack ever tried something like this, so no foreplay was needed. But, there's a first for everything-- isn't it? 

No, he's not entirely hard, but he's good enough, and wants for this to happen immediately. It's important to cherish every moment of this, but the foreplay has been going on for far too long. Well, to him it has. Forcefully, but not too roughly, he pulls Jack's mouth away from him, wanting for it to actually be around him, and not on him. 

Jack bites his lip, and examines the wet spot he created on Mark's underwear, and smiles to himself. Now he can thoroughly see how much Mark has changed. He doesn't look up as he taunts, "Oh, yer startin' t' like it." Wise words from Wilford, himself. 

"Shut up," the redhead retorts, tugging Jack down by his hair not subtle enough. 

"Stop bein' so fuckin' needy. Yer cock ins'n' even out yet." He takes the waistband of Mark's boxer briefs, and pulls them down to the same place his pants once were. Gripping Mark's shaft, Jack squeezes it very lightly, before kitten licking the head three times. Immediately after that, he takes the entire tip into his mouth, whirling his tongue around it. 

Balling his hands in Jack's hair, Mark wants to force Jack to go down further, but he knows that the other cannot do too much. Even as bad as he wants to be deepthroated. "Fuck," he groans.

Finally, Jack takes much more into his mouth, thankfully. Well, if you think a little is more. But it's the thought that counts. He firmly wraps his fingers around the places he can't reach with his mouth, but then pulls off completely. Pushing Mark's chair back, Jack gets up from his knees, and escapes the space. Stretching, he walks over towards the bed and sits on it. 

"What--?" Mark begins, but Jack shuts him up with a wave of the hand. 

"You told me t' go away, remember?" Jack rubs his chin, and pretends to think. 

***

"No, she's not gettin' that one," Jack takes the swimsuit from Mark's hands, and places it back on the rack from which it came. 

It seemed too loose, for one, and it merely looks like it's for an adult woman. Not the design, but the entire "bikini-esque" isn't what Jack likes. It only looks like it's been forgotten in the dryer for a few days.

Mikayla pouts, and tugs at the garment. "Why not?!" She asks, but it sounds more of a whine rather than a question. 

"Because i's a two-piece." 

"What does it matter? It's just a swimsuit, Jack," Mark speaks up, examining the other options. 

After all this time of having Mikayla live with them, not once did she even touch the pool water that they own in the back. She's seen it, but never did she get in it. Of course, she wanted to, but both Jack and Mark had things to do, and so no one would be able to watch her out there. She wasn't with them for very long, but it would devastate both of their hearts if she were to drown. No, she can't swim, and they don't have a shallow end in their pool. So, today, they've taken off time to actually let her swim, rather than going off to a beach and letting time fade.

"What does she need with a two-piece? She has nothing t'... Mark, she doesn' need that." Catching Mikayla's gaze, Jack sighs and looks away from those unforgiving eyes. "At least... find one that..."

The redhead bends down to pick up the upset girl, and positions her onto his hip. Glancing at Jack, he can understand what his boyfriend is trying to say. "Okay." Looking back at the girl in his arms with a smile, he offers, "C'mon, we can go look at the ones they've got over there, okay?"

Jack decides to situate himself on a nearby bench, tired of shopping already. He watches as Mark carries off the little girl into a disappearing aisle, and with that, he pulls out his phone. His attention on Tumblr has been slacking recently, and that can be explained. Opening the app, he searches for his followed tag, and chooses to explore it for the time being. 

The things he can see are shocking to him, but he honestly cannot say that he didn't see it coming from miles away. He completely forgot that he had a black eye. Well, not forgot, but more that since the purple bruising has begun to fade, he paid no mind to the red in his eye that was there for all to see. Being a YouTuber that very well updates every day, his fans were bound to know that he has some sort of injury. And since he hasn't addressed it in a vlog or just a small bit in a video, they were beginning to worry. But how would he calm them down? He may be able to lie to his friends, but he can't lie to his fans. It's not a moral reason completely, but he knows his friends. But he doesn't know all of his fans on a personal note, and any smart person can string some things together to figure out why his eye is bruised. He has been taking up Amanda, and has been covering the bruise, but nothing would cover up his actual eye. 

A few gifs were here and there with someone pointing out that he's been more quiet recently, and how obvious the injury is, especially since that eye is in view of the views at all times. He can be honest that he has been toned down, but it's more of thinking Mark over and where they stand in where they are. He knows that... Mark is the one, and can only be. Their whole thing isn't for a time period, unless you use death as an end marker. The ultimate goal is to get married, and have a happy ever after. Just because he does give him pain, that doesn't mean he isn't the one. Regardless, he didn't come into the tag to be reminded of this. He's supposed to see fan art and Sam, and even septiplier. Not how he should be feeling about his lover, and why he's been acting closed off. 

Scrolling down farther, he only saw about one drawing of fan art before he has to just close the app to avoid the conspiracies and thoughts. Jack wants to check out the comments on his videos, but he knows that all he'll see are things asking about what's wrong with him, and that thought sounds less and less appealing the more he thinks about it. 

Deciding on just going to follow Mark and Mikayla around and give his two cents about the swimsuit that they're picking, he stands and tucks his phone away into the back pocket. He follows the way he saw them go just minutes before. Of course, he still is confused on where the pair went so quickly, so he's looking up and down the passing aisles. With all of the circle racks of shirts and pants, and tall shelves of pants, they're hard to find. Just the second before Jack calls out for Mikayla, she runs quickly past him from a clothing rack, and hides in one that is a short distance from where Jack stands. 

Looking at the path she just abandoned, Jack can see Mark hunched a bit, and looking suspiciously at all the the clothes that surround him. "What're ya doin'--?" 

Hurriedly shushing his boyfriend, Mark continues his search for the girl that is obviously hiding from him. "Mikayla? Where have you gone?" A sing-song tone is evident, and Jack can conclude that this is all a game. Connecting his eyes with the previously confused man he smirks, and mouthes, "Where is she?" While also shifting his weight onto one leg. 

Oh, Jack can be in on it, too. Stealing a look around, he pretends that it's a huge secret. He walks backwards, still glaring around. Coming in contact with the short rack their daughter decided to take refuge in, he slyly but quickly pulls several clothing items back, and exposes the girl hiding in them.

"Gotcha!" Mark rushes for her, picking her up from the space.

She giggles and smiles while she suspends in air. "Jack! You told him!"

"I dunno what yer talkin' 'bout," Jack's shoulders are shrugged, and he frowns.

***

Eventually, they settled on a swimsuit that's purple and ruffly, and it's also a two-piece. Mikayla begged for it, and neither could resist her begging.

"You're not gonna get in?" Mark kisses the back of Jack's hair, while he's standing this closely behind him. He places his hands onto Jack's hips.

"No, Mark. I'll come 'n' sit wit' you, but I'm not gettin' in," Jack says, gripping Mark's hands and wrapping them around his waist. Is it a shame to say that he wants him much closer?

"Well will you plug up my phone after yours?" After firmly hugging the younger male, he detaches and sticks his almost-dead phone into Jack's back pocket.

Nodding, he takes steals the charger from his own phone, and plugs Mark's up to it. He didn't wait for Mark to leave before leaning onto the island and scrolling through Facebook. Yeah, he doesn't care for it at all, but this is the smaller, social part of it is what he can say is what he can _appreciate_. Even _if_ that. 

He didn't much notice when Mark was gone, but he knew he left just with the empty presence. Jack debates if he should join them outside now, or if he should wait just a bit. He ganders in front of him and notices that Mark is just trying to keep Mikayla afloat. Not soon after, though, she's back on the side of the pool, sitting on the edge. 

Though, it isn't that Mikayla didn't want to swim, but the pool's just... much too tall for her. Well, more so that she doesn't want to swim now. Although she does love that Mark is assisting, she'd rather take it on her own pace for now. 

Jack's in the middle of reading a status that Wade made the other day, when Mark's ringtone echoes throughout the kitchen. Leaning over and tilting the phone towards him, he can see the name "Charity" atop. As bad as he wants to slide the phone over and answer it, he cannot answer someone else's phone. Though, he does wonder why a charity is calling his boyfriend. If it has something to do with a charity livestream, he should answer, shouldn't he? 

Hovering his thumb over the icon, he slides it over and takes it from the charger. He presses it to his ear, and greets the caller with a cliche greeting: "Hello?" 

"Do you plan on coming today?" Charity asks. 

"I'm sorry, going where?" Jack questions. Did Mark have plans today? 

Charity laughs over the other end. "Oh, you're not Mark," she mentally slaps herself for not recognizing Mark's signature voice. 

"Well, no, I'm his--"

"Why are you answering my phone?" Mark says from out of the blue, startling Jack. "Who is it?" He queries, having a feeling it's who he thinks it is. 

Walking over towards Mark, he says, "Charity--" but didn't get to finish before Mark snatches the phone from Jack, and eagerly steps back outside onto the deck. 

Holding up a finger to Jack, Mark slides the door closed, while putting the phone up to his ear. 

Dropping his gaze down, Jack sees the puddles and trails of water Mark left in his wake, and decides to go grab a few towels to soak up the mess. Maybe the call was very important... Jack thinks to himself, while letting the towels slip from his grasp onto the wet floor. But... she asked if he was "coming today" and that can only present knots that should be tied together for Jack. Is this where Mark goes to each time he leaves Jack? Why couldn't he answer the call? If she's just part of a charity, then it shouldn't be that serious, should it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, what is that on the horizon?! It looks like we're coming up to a climax soon!


	21. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

The only word that anyone would use to describe Southern California during fall is "hot". If anything, it's considered a second summer. As the months progress, the temperature does go down, but September and October seem to be the hottest out of the entire year for all of those who dwell on the sunny side. This also happened to be the time that Mikayla has to start school, and she's the most excited for the entire thing. Or rather... that her birthday happens to be tomorrow. Whichever it is, she's over-elated and couldn't be happier. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna be," Mikayla stamps the marker-indulged stamp onto the white paper, aiming her comment at the girl next to her, and holds up five fingers. 

"You're old," Alison laughs at Mikayla's statement, and waits for her to finish using the stamp she wants. 

"Well, Jack and Mark are old. Like... old people," She laughs with her friend, offering up the tool. 

Mikayla had asked if Alison could some over earlier, and her parents were all for it, but Alison's weren't. Of course they'd be skeptical over their daughter going over to a house with two grown men, so it took some talking. Responsible parenting, although stereotypical. 

Slanting her shoulders and furrowing her brows, Alison looks up at Mikayla. "Who's Jack and Mark?"

"My..." Mikayla gestures with her hands, "parents." 

"Why not your mommy and daddy?" Alison brought up a valid point of why Mikayla never called Jack and Mark her dads, or rather, mom and dad, but Mikayla didn't quite know that, yet. 

The older girl shifts uncomfortably. "I dunno." 

"Who's your mommy?" 

Both girls are unaware that their conversation can easily be heard through the door way, and every word they're saying is being picked up by Jack's ears. He hasn't been there entirely, but the moment "parents" came up, he had to eavesdrop. The use of "mommy" peaked his interest, and he's completely interested to know which of them Mikayla thought of as a... mother. 

"I dunno," Mikayla answers back, and since Alison never took the stamp, she continues to use it for completing her design. 

"One is a mom. If you have this many," Alison shows two fingers, "that's a mommy--" she wiggles the first finger-- "And this is a daddy," she wiggles the second one. 

Mikayla realizes that what her friend is saying makes a lot of sense. "How do I know which is... my mommy?" 

"Well mommies are really pretty."

"But... they're both pretty."

"Mommies also wear dresses, like me," Alison signals to the black one she's wearing now, and so Mikayla looks down at it. 

"They wear pants," The girl says. What if she didn't have a mommy? Would her family be considered odd?

Alison reaches over and hugs her friend, and comes up with something else to help them know which of Mikayla's parents is a mother or a father. "Mommies are also littler than daddies. And they are nice. They hug you, and love you, and fight monsters, and make food, and tell stories."

Mikayla immediately releases herself from Alison, and has a smile shown proudly upon her face. "I know! It's Jack!" Giggling, she explains, "He doesn't fight monsters, or make food, but he is all the stuff." 

Well, now that the two girls have settled on which parent happens to be the mom-- which neither are-- how should Jack go about this? He'd feel bad for deflating Alison's thoughts, and bringing her into the real world before her parents felt like she should. And it also makes Jack think of how long Mikayla had been at the agency before now. 

***

"What do you want for your birthday, babe?" Mark asks his daughter, balancing her properly on his hip. 

Out of all of the time they've spent with Mikayla, they didn't know much of what she actually liked. Besides from tea sets and drawing utensils, there was no real inclination that Mikayla likes anything else. 

"Purple," Is all she says. 

"Purple? Purple what?" 

"Everything."

"Purple everything?" Mark fakes being surprised, and exaggerates the last word for extra emphasis. Although he knows she loves purple, that still leaves a few things vague for what exactly she wants. How does that show the difference between purple fabric and purple toys? Either way, he'll figure it out when he's at the store picking up her some things. 

She only laughs and nods. Of course she doesn't know how ambiguous that announcement is, but they'll all have to work with it. 

"What does she want for 'er birthday?" Jack calls from the kitchen, soon appearing, wiping his damp hands on the blue shirt he's wearing, leaving faint trails of water in their wake. 

"She wants," Mark makes contact with Jack, and looks back at the girl in his arms, "purple."

***

"How're we goin' about this?" Jack asks, playing with Mark's hair. After seeing that Mark decided to sit on the couch and play the TV as some background noise, he took the chance to sit on the back of the couch, and place his legs on both side of Mark. That led to playing with Mark's hair. 

"About what?" They had been in silence for a while now, so of course, Mark didn't know what they were talking about. 

"Mikayla's birthday. I don' know what t' get 'er. Purple... purple what?" 

Recognizing what Jack's talking about, he interjects. "Well, I thought it over. Instead of just getting her some, uh... toys and clothes-- you know how her room is white?" 

"What... paint 'er room? She'll know, and it'll be messy t' do by ourselves..." 

"No, Jack, I mean to redecorate. We can easily go out and buy purple stuff, and then set them up in her room. She's gonna have a somewhat-party out back with Alison, and... Can she bring friends from the place? I dunno, but that, too." 

"A party? I hadn' planned on that, but I... I'll have t' either tell them that I'll be busy that day, or plan in advance," The Irishman sighs, and rubs his hand on the side of his face. 

"What, you don't have time for your daughter?" The redhead jokes, turning his head to look back at his lover, with a half-smirk. 

Gaping his mouth and raising his eyebrows, Jack replies, "Wha-- no, yer doin' that on purpose. I hate you, ya doof." Of course he knows Mark is playing, but he can't help the reaction. "Anyway, we need t' focus on Mikayla. How're we gonna get her... ya know, away?"

"She's too young to be... going away anywhere, but it's not like we're replacing her whole room, just getting some... accents, y'know? We can hide all the stuff we buy in our room, and then when she's out in the back, we can-- one of us, can go in and set up how it should be. Easy." Mark returns back to his phone, and feels that this entire surprise will be easier done and said. 

Jack begins to retreat from the couch, but he feels he has something extra to say to the man he practically sat on, "One more thing."

"Yeah--?"

The Irishman firmly but softly taps Mark's head, and laughs, "Yer it!" And with that, he makes a break for the stairs. 

You're never too old to play tag, correct? Well, that's what the two have been living by for the years they've been together. At all of the tense moments with elephants making an appearance where they're not wanted, clouds of awkwardness building up, and upsetting times, they could resort to games, and playful banter. Well, they could always do that, even when times weren't rough, and that's what a good relationship should have. If they weren't kids every now and then, then their relationship would be extremely too serious and adult-esque. Wouldn't that explain all of the pretend arguments, and comebacks on both Tumblr and Twitter? 

Confused for a second, Mark understands what Jack is up to the seconds after he catches Jack ascending the stairs. "You're a cheater!" He quickly pushes himself up from the furniture, and pursues the other man. "And childish as hell!"

"Only losers say that!" Jack calls behind him, focusing on not tripping up the steps. But he makes it up them, and plans for hiding in their room. Instantly, he realizes that there are only two places he could disguise himself: under the covers-- which is much too obvious, or under Mark's desk. He could hide behind the door near Mark's second desk, but that would create much too much noise, and moving the panels in front would be time consuming. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he laughs. Reluctantly, Mikayla's room comes into mind. Deciding on that, he's on his way there immediately. 

"Yeah, Well we'll see," Mark says, climbing the stairs. He stops at the top, listening for any noises that will give Jack away. None are heard, so he opts for checking in their room first. It's one of the most painfully-obvious spots, but Mark wouldn't put it past Jack to hide there. Entering the room, he steps forward some, and scans the area. He knows that Jack cannot hide under the bed, and everything in the room seems untouched. He wants to go towards the closet, but laughing from the two girls coming from the other room makes him reconsider. How could he forget that Jack could hide in there? 

"That was Jack?" Alison asks, but Mikayla covers her mouth keeping her quiet. 

Mikayla nods and laughs even more. The fact that she knows Jack's hiding out in her room makes her laugh, because it's a secret that only she and her friend know about. It is small, but she's loving the fact that she gets to keep something a secret from her other parent. 

Alison giggles as well, but she stops the second she sees Mark's figure in the doorway. That just made it even funnier, so she laughs even more. 

"What's so funny?" Mark questions, knowing the exact reason. It doesn't hurt to play along, though. 

The girls look at each other for a second before laughing again. 

"Have you two seen Jack?" 

"Nope." Alison exaggerates shaking her head.

"Oh really?" He steps into the room now, and raises an eyebrow. 

"He went in his room!" Mikayla says, and points in a different direction than where Jack's recording room is. 

Walking over closer to them, he kneels and intertwines his fingers. "What if I... make you two a deal?" 

Neither of them answered. They only looked at him with small smiles. 

***

"Ya both can't be trusted," Jack says, pretending to be upset at both of the girls in front of them. 

Alison and Mikayla sold him out the minute that Mark had promised them some candy in reprise for unlocking their secret. Jack was supposed to be the winner, and Mark the sore loser, but now it's different. 

They're all seated in the living room, with Mark closer towards the door, and Jack towards the wall, with the kids between them.

"They're little girls. They're gonna do almost anything for candy," Mark says, but then has a thought pop into his head. "With that being said," he turns towards both of them and points, "don't accept candy from strangers." 

"Aren't you a stranger?" Alison asks, and she does have a point. She doesn't know Mark well enough, so she can easily say that Mark is a stranger to her. He's way too foreign, but not foreign enough. Well, she is in their house, so he's not that strange, even though her knowledge of him lacks any depth. 

"No, no, he's my dad. Not that," Mikayla interjects and now she has all eyes on her. 

Laughing, Mark takes in that thought. "Yeah, that." 

"'M startin' t' believe that kids like me more than you." Jack's sentence didn't fully go through before he started laughing halfway through it. 

"Oh it's only been two kids. You think they all like you better?" 

"Why wouldn't they? I'm nice and have green hair. Every kid loves t' see someone with green hair. Ya don't go up to greet kids-- I do. I can understand them better because I'm like... 10 in my mind. Yer only 10 on YouTube."

"Well, we'll see very soon." Mark winks at his boyfriend. 

"What--? Oh, that." He waves off Mark and steals a quick glance at Mikayla. "Mikayla."

She leans forwards to look past Alison towards Jack, and that prompts for Alison to look that way as well. 

"Who's yer favorite?" 

Sitting up in his seat, Mark furrows his eyebrows. "Not you, damn well."

"You don't know that. Yer not her favorite," Jack interjects, knowing well-enough that Mark doesn't spend nearly enough time with Mikayla for her even to consider having him as her most-liked parent out of both of them. "Why would it be you?"

Mark is always away, or recording and editing. Jack has his own editor, so he can budget him time perfectly. Mark is always signing up for collaborations and being over with Matthias, out for some reason, talking to distant friends over Skype, playing with Chica, or plain too busy to cut out a small bit of his life for Mikayla. If anything, he just shows up whenever Jack is with her, and invites himself into their time together. Jack, on the other hand, doesn't do much with the extra he gets from splitting the editing responsibilities with someone else. Chica isn't his dog, so he barely has to care for her. That doesn't mean he doesn't care for her, though, as he loves dogs. But most of the time if he's not recording or editing, he's there with his daughter, and loving it. 

Mark rolls his eyes and falls back into the cushions. "She shouldn't have a favorite, anyway."

***

"This shade... doesn't match the rest. I told you!" Jack complains at the slight hue difference with the two shades of purple. Miniscule, yes, but anyone could notice it if they looked good enough. Jack had told Mark that both colors differentiated when they were in the store, but Mark just insisted that the light in the store wasn't bright enough to see that they were, indeed, the same. 

"Jack, what does it matter? Don't you think she'll be grateful either way? She's gonna love it. She's four, not a professional fashion designer. She's not even gonna notice it, promise," Mark calms down Jack, even though Jack isn't in a state of panic. 

Jack sits down the lamp on the bedside table, and reaches down to plug it in, anyway. "Whatever, I told you so." 

They both combed through several stores that house furniture, and found several purple things that would make Mikayla's room have color and originality. Considering that purple isn't a color that many people have throughout their houses, it was indeed hard to find, and that explains why they went to more than two. Eventually, they found enough. A purple and white cover set with stripes, a lamp with detachable night lights, a huge wall sticker in the shape of a heart, albeit different colors, some stuffed toys, bean bag chairs, medium letters to spell out her name, and more. 

They needed for all of the kids that were allowed to come to be out of the way, and outside wasn't a safe place. There's a huge pool out there, and it's much better to just keep them in an empty room with a view, rather than deal with grief-stricken parents, or be them. But it seemed to cool the parents' minds to keep and watch all of the children outside. And, turns out, Mikayla had friends that were adopted before she was, after, and ones that weren't so fortunate. Plenty of calls and visits later, they were finally able to group up a good amount of children. They had driving to do for those that weren't adopted, and that was fine, as long as Mikayla is lucky enough to enjoy her birthday with other kids. Considering that all of her time is basically spent with two adults and a dog, this was a nice change in scenery for once. Though, parents did have to attend. One, because they wanted their kids safe, and two, because Jack and Mark couldn't keep track of many kids at once.

"Yeah, yeah." Mark eagerly begins to leave the room, and looks back at Jack. "Stop fiddling with it. You're gonna leave it all cerfuckled, when it's fine. Let's go."

The Irishman sits the spherical nightlight back into its holder, and follows Mark's footsteps. "I just want it perfect, okay? I want 'er to love it, not point out stuff that's not right." 

***

"How old are you?" Farah, one of Mikayla's friends, asks her. 

"Older," Mikayla just answers, not realizing how sarcastic the answer really was. 

"Like... older than my mom?" 

"Yeah. I'm really old, now." 

"You're old people," Farah giggles at that, covering her mouth. The thought of Mikayla being an old person makes her laugh, and it's impossible to get the idea of Mikayla with grey hairs out of her head. 

"Ugh!" Mikayla covers her face with both hands, and shakes her head. "I'm dying, Farah." 

Farah instantly stands up, and runs towards the nearest balloon to her. Reaching to pick it up, she grasps it, and returns back to her friend. She gives the balloon to Mikayla, waiting for her to uncover her face. "My mom says that old people appreciate presents more than young people... so I got you... this."

Opening her fingers to allow for visibility, Mikayla takes in the fact that her friend brought her a balloon. There are tons of these everywhere, but since Farah gave her this one, it's special beyond recognition. "She's right, because I love it." Faintly, she notices Jack and Mark exiting the sliding door, and Jack is closing it behind them. Rudely, she gets up, while still cradling the balloon, and makes her way over towards her parents. 

Out of all the kids there, Mark could instantly know which was Mikayla, and seeing her come up to them is no surprise. Kneeling down to almost her height as she approaches, he asks, "What's wrong?" He knows that it isn't unlikely for a child to come up to their parent during crowded outings, but if her friends are there, then why is she spotting them so quickly? 

She shakes her head again, and just hugs the caring parent, even letting the balloon fall to try her best to hug Jack as well. It's nothing, but she just wants to show them that she's thankful for what they've planned, and all they've done so far. 

They must know what the meaning behind the hug is, as they didn't ask any questions, only reciprocated. 

"My mom says you're not dying," a small voice says, and it makes Mark open his eyes, and Jack look down. 

Exchanging glances, they don't know how to properly approach or respond. That being said, they didn't, and just allowed for Mikayla to run off with Farah back to her parents. 

"Do you think that we were as--" Jack subtly uses his hands to gesture towards the children-- "weird as they are today?" 

Mark sighs, and stands back up. "No, we still are." 

*** 

"We should be out there with them, Mark. What if somethin' happens?" It only makes sense that Jack is worried for the outdoor inhabitants, but with several adult chaperoning, everyone is perfectly fine. If anything, Jack and Mark aren't the ones to blame if the parents weren't watching their children. 

"Jack, I know, but it's hurting no one that we're inside. We've been out there for a while, and it's perfectly fine to be inside. It's fucking... hot out there." Mark talks down Jack's worries, and simply drapes his arm across his lover's shoulders. 

The younger male simply let silence answer Mark's question, not moving. He knows that Mark is correct, in the heat and the safety of children, but he can't help but worry just a small bit. In honesty, it's not the kids that have been eating at him completely. It's been the fact of Mark and what he's hiding that has him coming up with theories and conclusions. The most obvious one is that he could be being played for a fool, and Mark is seeing someone else, but unless he catches Mark in the act, he can't fully say that's it. If he were cheating, Mark would be distancing himself from Jack, right? Significant others that aren't faithful tend to drift from their partner, and show less and less signs of affection, and Mark hasn't done that. Mark could be working on something, and isn't too jumpy to spill about it, yet, and that's another option. He has been working on things on the side, anyway, hasn't he? Wouldn't that explain why he's constantly leaving? Whatever the options were, Jack hasn't brought it up. He didn't want to make his boyfriend uncomfortable or upset, so he just left it alone and didn't pry. 

"Jack, you're like you have anxiety. Everyone is fine." 

Breathing in heavily and exhaling, he feels that now is the time to ask. "Mark... who was that?"

Thoroughly confused, the redhead asks, "Who is who?"

"From a while ago. When ye snatched the phone from me... who was she?" 

"Why?"

"I can't ask?" 

"It's honestly none of your business, Jack. She's nobody."

"None of my business?" Jack turns towards the other man, and Mark takes his arm back as a result. "We're together, and I can't know who she is?" 

"She's nobody. She doesn't matter in what we have, so you don't need to worry about her." 

"Well if she's--" Jack makes air quotes with his hands-- " _nobody_ , then why can't I know?" 

"Because she's--" Mark does the same, and mimics Jack's quotes-- " _not important._ "

Crossing his arms, he definitely is getting more frustrated by the second. "She seemed real important when I couldn't answer it, and you stepped outside." 

"Drop it, Jack, just drop it." Mark picks up his phone lying next to him, and unlocks it. He doesn't have any time today for any of these questions Jack is bringing up, and it's only going to make him upset with the onslaught of them. 

Giving quick glimpses from the phone to Mark, Jack says, "Oh, you're gonna text her, now?" 

"Why do you feel the need to show off when people get here?" 

"I'm not... showing off fer people. Yer the one... makin' this thing difficult, and arguin', tryin' t' show off in front of 'er friends." 

Mark presses the power button, and drops the phone into his lap. Putting his palms together, he takes a deep breath. "Jack, you don't need to do this right now. It's Mikayla's birthday--"

"I just asked a question! Yer being so fuckin' closed off that you can't even tell the truth to me without actin' so secretive!" 

"The truth? Truth about what? About her? There is no truth about anything. She's nobody, she isn't important, and you're making a big deal out of nothing." He's doing his best to not raise his voice at Jack, but failing from keeping his temper from rising. Being pissed off at Jack will do neither of them no good. 

"Obviously there's somethin' with her, and yer lyin'. You can't just tell me right now instead of being a secretive liar all the time?!" Jack stands up, and begins to go towards the stairs to fix up his daughter's room even more, but this argument is only slowing him down. 

Standing as well, he faces the man not far from him. "What am I lying about?! If I don't say it, that's not lying!" 

"It's always that. You think that if you don't mention it at all, that that excuses you from lyin', and that's not an excuse." He full faces the stairs. 

"Ugh! You're so goddamn difficult! You're always trying to find problems when there are none!" The farther Jack walks, the more Mark follows him. He can hear the sliding door open, but he pays almost no mind to it.

"I have a problem," Jack spins back around, and the proximity between himself and Mark isn't as wide as it was. "My problem is you."

Mark huffs out a laugh, but all that's there is animosity. "Well solve me, Jack." 

He has to think for a minute. He's purely upset, and his mind shouldn't be made up during such a heated time, but he has no choice. "Fine, we're--"

Quickly, Mark knew what Jack was going to say before he even said it, but he didn't even listen to the words before suddenly bringing the back of his hand to connect with Jack's face, and shoving him painfully in the chest, to make him fall. As Jack lands, he can only make eye contact very shortly, because he can clearly see that this isn't all Mark wants to do. 

"Stop it!" A cry that has plenty of tears behind it sounds, and it has several footsteps to go along with it. 

Playfully, Mark kicks at Jack's leg, but a teasing one, ignoring the child in the background. "You're not gonna solve me, Jack?" 

Jack's attention is spent half on Mikayla, and half with Mark. It's breaking his heart for her to see this, and get such a bad view of Mark. On the other hand, it's crushing his heart to see the man he loves treating him this way, once again.

Mark causes for Jack to flinch and cover his face, as he reaches down towards him, grabbing his upper arm much too tightly. "What's--" He's interrupted by a small force trying to shake him, and so he looks down at it. 

"Stop!" Mikayla whines, and grips tighter onto Mark's shirt. "Stop it!" Tears begin to freely spill from her eyes even more. "You're hurting him!" 

This could be considered the worst birthday a child could ever have, because this is not the gift she wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's August 29th


	22. It Isn't My Fault, but It Is

She holds tightly onto one of her stuffed toys, and buries her face into the soft, fluffy stomach. Her own stomach felt like pretzels, and knotted in twists. All she can do is replay the scene from earlier in her head, and makes her fall into a deeper pit of sadness. It hurts to even think about what happened, and how afraid Jack looked. 

_"Stop!" Mikayla whined, and gripped tighter onto Mark's shirt. "Stop it!" Tears began to freely spill from her eyes even more. "You're hurting him!" ___

_"Mikkie," Mark scoffed, trapped both of her tiny hands in his, and pulled them from his hem, "go back outside, babe." He let go of Jack's upper arm in favor of his wrist. He planned on removing both of Jack's hands from his face to expose more of it._

_"No!" She sobbed more, stealing a glance at Jack. With no hesitation, Mikayla instantly went down to hug him, also doing her best to cover up the man to the best of her abilities. She is much smaller than Mark by an extremely large amount, but it's the thought that counts. Mark would never hit her._

Several soft knocks on Mikayla's door brings her back from her thoughts. Sitting up, she confirms that whoever it is, they're allowed in. There's a 50/50 percent chance that it could be Mark or Jack, and she's hoping that it isn't Mark that decided to pop up. Luckily for her, it isn't.

With an awkward half-smile on his face, Jack appears. He appears very tired, and all of the hairs on his head are disheveled. The Irishman slowly walks over to Mikayla's bed, and asks, "Can I...?" After her nodding, he sits down on her bed. Unfortunately, there's much silence before Jack actually decides to speak up. "Do you like... yer room?" 

Mikayla hugs her animal more before answering, "Yeah, I think it's pretty." And it's true. She loves it almost as much as she loves Jack, but when she was forced into it, her mood was dominated by sadness, ergo she wasn't able to fully enjoy the wide array of purple that's there. 

Jack chooses to play with his fingers. "I hope that you had fun with yer friends... while they were here." He looks over to his side, and makes eye contact with her quickly before looking back down at the floor and away from her. 

She only mumbles out a small 'mhm' while looking Jack over. After a few seconds of silence, she can notice how slumped he is. But after seeing his palm come up to his face and hearing soft sobs, Mikayla pushes her cover off of her, and takes a seat next to her parent. "Jack, what's wrong?" 

Jack sniffs, and does his best to wipe his tears away, but he can't help but to cry. "I'm sorry, Mikayla."

"Why?" 

"Because I ruined yer birthday. It was supposed to be fun fer you," he says, dropping his hand onto his lap. "But I got Mark upset, and I'm upset you had t' see that. It's my fault, 'n' I'm sorry." 

Confused, she speaks up, "But Mark--"

"It's not his fault. He was just upset, is all, and I kept... making him more upset." Looking at his daughter this time, he wraps an arm around her shoulders. "I'll make it up to you." 

She honestly doesn't understand it all, but she agrees anyway. "Okay." 

And so they sit there. Both of them are just basking in the silence, and not for a second did it feel awkward. Mikayla knows that Jack is sad, but since she's not certain about what to do to make his sadness lessen, so she's doing her best to just enjoy his company. 

"Jack?" 

"Yeah?"

"You're my favorite."

He laughs, hugging her closer. "Yer not supposed t' have a favorite."

"I know, but I do," She laughs with Jack, and pushes some of her hair from her face. "Mark is kinda--" she plays with her fingers the same way-- "a meanie."

"You--" his laughing in between it interrupts him-- "Think he's a "meanie"?" 

A nod is her only answer, not knowing why her confession is something to be laughed at. "He made you cry. I don't like seeing you cry." 

That makes his laughing cease. "Well... I'l make sure ya never see it again, okay? But it's time for you t' go t' bed, babe." Standing up, he leads Mikayla off with him, and pulls the entire cover back enough for her to fit into it. 

She climbs into the empty space, and waits for her parent to tuck the covers around her. After, he fluffs up her hair, and proceeds to leave, but she quickly calls him back before he's gone. "It's dark out there," she says, and sits up. Reaching over to her bedside table, she picks up one of the glowing spheres from her night light, and holds it out for him to take. 

Chuckling a bit, Jack walks back to her, and takes the light in his hand. "Now I'll be protected from the monsters. Thank you." With that he finally leaves the room and enters the poorly-lit hallway. It's not too late, but he feels so tired that going to sleep right now will be the best option. He doesn't make it too far towards the room, though, before two, strong arms wrap around his waist, scaring him. Jumping, he goes stiff in Mark's arms. "I... You scared me..." 

"I know," Mark sighs, and he places his chin in the crook of Jack's neck, "you went stiff. Who else would be in our house?" 

"Well... I-- am just jumpy... is all. I'm sorry." He still doesn't relax, only stands there, waiting to be released. He isn't in the mood to be in Mark's embrace, but he doesn't want to tell him to let him go so that he can go to bed. 

But he's held there, as Mark holds him there longer, just enjoying the feeling of having Jack pressed up against him. He mas to make up for what he did... but he doesn't know how. A simple apology means nothing, because talk is cheap. But it seems like it's what he'll have to work with. He couldn't possibly explain it... "You know I love you, Jack, and I'm sorry." 

Jack hesitates for a second before saying, "Do you?" It sounds barely audible, and doused in sorrow.

"What is that supposed to mean?" The redhead grips a little bit tighter onto Jack as he says this. 

"I's... nothing," The Irishman whispers. "'M really tired, and I want t' go t' bed. Can... I do that?" 

Mark doesn't respond verbally. He hums and let's his grip fall from Jack's body. 

***

It isn't he first or second time it's happened, but rest assured that Mark hates every time it does. It's not like he can fully remember when it happens or all of the details, but there's nothing he can do about it. 

Shifting uncomfortably, Mark throws the covers back from his body. He hadn't even done anything, but his body temperature has risen, and the covers just make it almost unbearable, no matter how thin. But the second his body leaves the confines of it, he cools off much too much, and wants to cover again. Though, that only makes him hot once again. An endless cycle, that can't stop no matter how many different combinations he tries of covering himself. Eventually, he does give up, and leaves it down at his waist. At least if he's hot, it's bearable enough. His eyes are turned towards the ceiling, taking long blinks to make himself fall back to sleep, but that's out of the window. He should have known that if he were to wake up, he isn't going back to sleep. It's been that way for a while now, and it's affecting him terribly. Waking up around three in the morning every time throws off his schedule for recording, but that's been off for a while now. Rather something he doesn't want to get into too much. All he can do is come up with excuses and lies as to why he can't record here and there, why the videos haven't been on time, or why there is no second video. It makes him feel like a failure and as though he's failing his community. All he can do is make excuses, though, as he doesn't want to worry anyone. 

There's no point in rethinking this over once again. There is no point. Instead, he focuses his attention onto Jack. Before they came to bed, he had asked if Mark a question, but he can't remember it for the life of him. All he can recall is coming back home after a bout of anger, hugging Jack, and waking up. 

_Do you?_

Holding his blinks, Mark stops breathing for a second. "What?" 

_Do you love Jack, Mark?_

"More than anything. Why?" he snaps back, not in the mood for questions about his significant other. 

_No you don't._

"Yeah I do, why would you say that?" He sits up and scans the vicinity of the room. 

_You're an abuser, Mark._

The redhead steals a glance over at the sleeping man next to him, and looks away. "No... no I'm not. It's not my fault. Don't say that." 

_You abuse him, Mark. You don't love him._

"No, no I don't. Stop saying that." 

_You don't love him._

He shouldn't even be responding to this tomfoolery. Listening and communicating with the voices will only make it worse. 

_You don't love him._

That won't simply work, as he knows this. Never before has ignoring worked, so why would it work now? It doesn't matter how much willpower he possesses, or ever will, his mind can never repel the voice or their words. 

_You don't love him._

"I... I don't?" 

_But who can blame you? He's nothing special._

"Why would you say that?" 

_He's problematic. He's always in your business, Mark. He's always too loud. He's been talking down about you to your daughter, trust me. He's making you look like a bad parent..._

"He would never," He blindly reaches out a hand to grasp onto Jack's wrist, "do that." Would he? 

_Don't be stupid. He makes fun of you to your friends, you think he doesn't?_

"He wouldn't do that!" His grip on Jack's wrist becomes much tighter, in turn making him pull away while waking up. 

Jack has no clue close to whatever is happening with Mark, since he's still half-asleep, and he has a solid clutch on his wrist. "Mark, let go..." Once again he softly tries to take his wrist back. Unfortunately, it does nothing. It's as if Mark didn't hear him at all. He decides to adjust himself to accommodate the situation rather than fighting against it. This results in turning on his side rather than his stomach. He takes a good look at his boyfriend, and feels worry. Mark seems to have different emotions crossing his face, but anger is one that is the most prominent. "Baby, are you okay?" The Irishman reaches forwards to touch Mark, but that doesn't show as the proper thing to do. 

The redhead suddenly drops all contact with his boyfriend and balls his hands in the covers. He brings it up to his face, and cannot stay still. "Don't... touch me." 

"What? Why? Wha's wrong?" 

"Stop talking to me, Jack. Your voice is just... fucking annoying me, and I don't need all these questions right now." But he does. The fact that Jack even cares enough to ask makes Mark feel loved. Talking to Jack this way is the last thing he wants to do, but he can't do too much about it. 

"Why are you bein' so...?" His sentence tapers off the second he gets a stern look from the other male, and decides to simply close his mouth. Pulling up the covers to just about his chin, he looks somewhere else. 

"It's something about you that makes he hate you, but I can't pin point what exactly it is. There are so many, you'd wonder why I'm even with you." Mark huffs a small laugh. He can see that Jack's eyes are still downcast. 

But Jack didn't want to hear any more. He doesn't understand why Mark tries so hard to hurt his feelings and make him feel like he's submissive to him. All Jack does is love and support Mark throughout all he's done, but it seems that Mark doesn't give a damn about him. That's not what a relationship should be, but he's in too deep to start over anew. With that, he turns over onto the other side and stares at the wall. 

_It almost worked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would you feel if I told you there were only three chapters left?


	23. Who Is This? (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were already meeting for Pax, so why not add them.

"I'm trying to help you, but I can't help you if you don't help yourself," Charity says, gripping tightly to a strapped book. "I'm not a professional, but I believe this can help you." She hands over the book, and waits for Mark to take it. 

Holding it firmly in his hands, he looks it over properly, now. It is a dark brown, with nothing covering the front or back, but has stitches on the bottom and top of the spine. Little brown marks that are lighter than the initial color of the book are etched all over the object, obviously showing that it's made from authentic leather, and seemingly worn out. If you were to turn over the book, you'll see that a strap that ties on the front go around the journal once to ensure proper protection. Just looking from the top, the pages look off-white, but untouched. 

After all of the things that happened with Jack, he hasn't talked to Charity or been with her. It wasn't for Jack's sake, but more for himself, although half of it did involve Jack. There was no need to invoke Jack more and upset him about Charity. It's too obvious that Jack is jealous, but there isn't too much Mark can do about it. Though, here he is with her today. They decided to go for a walk and talk about similar issues going on in their lives, but Mark is the main topic of conversation, as usual. 

"How?" Mark runs both of his thumbs over the cover. 

Huffing out a breath, she answers, "It's to write down how you feel. Corny, yes, but you're supposed to write down what caused your stress, how you felt about it, how you acted, and what you did to help you feel better." Charity smiles, taking a step. They're walking at a slow pace, barely making any distance, but that's what happens when you're enjoying the conversation, correct? 

"I appreciate this, Charity, I really do. I'll use it, but can we talk about something else other than me?" Mark asks, genuinely tired of himself being the focus every time they connect. 

"Well, why haven't you been to therapy?" 

Mark pushes up his glasses. "How have you been, Charity?" 

***

"How am I s'possed t' do--" Jack brings a brush down Mikayla's hair in one stroke, and it frizzes instantly, making him groan. "What the hell even is this," he laughs. 

Mikayla shrugs and holds up the hand mirror. "I think it's cool."

"No, I can't let ya walk out the house wit' hair like this," Jack laughs again. "I don't know how t' do hair like this!" 

"Like what?"

"Uh... curly. I jus' have straight hair-- i's all I know how t' do." Hoping for different results, he runs the bristles through once more, but the hairs only fluffed up worse. "Well, how am I s'posed to fix this?" 

"I think it's cool," she repeats, patting the hair with her left palm. She can feel the fluff as the result of all of her curls being separated, but it only makes her hair feel softer, and she doesn't understand the problem. 

It seems as though Mikayla would have to leave the house with a frizzy halo of hair, but if anything, Jack has narrowed it down to two other options: Braids, or a ponytail. He doesn't know how to braid hair decently, and if he were to put the hair into an updo, then it'll look like it was half-assed. Either way, he's standing up from the living-room floor, and stretching towards the ceiling. "I'm not lettin' ya walk out the house like that." Facing away from the girl, his only objective is to find a ponytail holder, and figure out the rest. "Fuck if I know where a... goddamn hair tie is," he whispers, not wanting the habit of cursing to roll off onto Mikayla. But he knows as well as the next guy that they own no ponytail holders, or rather hair ties. Sighing, Jack falls back onto the couch, and just looks at the hair atop his daughter's head. 

Taking the brush, Mikayla chooses which area to brush purely by chance, and starts from there. It won't take long to hit every part of her head, since the brush is a decent size. Even if Jack won't brush the rest and let the kinks puff up, then she will. Anyway, Jack's watching her and doing nothing to stop it, so it's obvious he doesn't care too much about it. 

The Irishman silently waits for a few beats. He watches Mikayla switch up and change her hair. "You like yer hair like that?"

Mikayla only nods, finally sitting the tool down, and feeling through her hair, blindly. The softness and volume throughout it seems to make her happy. Her hands push through all of the downy hairs, pursuing a middle part with just her hands. "I can leave?"

He mixes a sigh along with a laugh. bringing his palm up to his face. "I guess 'm lettin' ya leave the house like that." 

Laughing, she reiterates her statement: "I think it's cool."

"Of course you do. Ya think everything is cool,

***

"You probably don't wanna be over here, since all the magic happens behind us," The redhead states. But he did.

When they had pondered where they'd go for the day, Mark's mind instantly went for... this place. He wants to call it a pier, or a boardwalk, or a beach, but those names seem too narrow. If anything, it's all of those combined. Behind them, there are people trailing up and down a boardwalk that branches into a 't' shape, with several food and game stands littering it. The pair is sitting off from that, with a large wooden platform in the middle of the sand in front of them. Just beyond that is the calming water and some sea foam. Feet down from the platform lies a pier that extends far into the water. Few people decide to walk on it, which creates a perfect vacant feeling. 

"No, I was tired of walking, anyway. I enjoy just looking at the water. It's especially perfect at sunset. Don't you agree?" Charity asks, basking in the feelings of talking about sunset. It's her favorite time of day besides night. 

He looks over her way, and smiles wide. "Yes! It's a beautiful time. You ever see when the sky gets pink?" 

"Of course, especially since orange is the norm. It's lovely to see the ombre of yellows, pinks, oranges, and blues. I always sit out on my balcony to see it." She smiles back at Mark before looking down at the sand. 

Mark has his book sitting next to him. Turning his attention to that, he rubs the cover faintly, just to get a feel of the surface again. "I don't get to see it too often, since I work a lot. It's a nice sacrifice, since I love what I do." 

"Do you want to stay here until sunset?" 

"That'd be nice, but I have someone to get home to later, and we have friends coming over." Felix and Ken are supposed to land here in LA very soon, and Mark wants to be there to meet them when they get here, with Jack. Instead of a hotel, their friends are just going to stay over their house for the duration of their stay. 

Nodding, Charity understands. 

"Do you have a pen?" Mark asks, lightly tapping on Charity's upper arm with the back of his hand. He has the spine of the new journal held in his other palm, and watches the blank page. With it just looking back at Mark, it's vacant surface is begging to be written on, and Mark plans to fulfill the wish very soon. He had picked a page at random, doing the best he could to choose a middle part. 

Without answering, Charity just reaches towards the purse she has resting against her. Her hand disappears inside of it, and returns a second after with black, gel pen situated between her fingers. "It's probably almost gone, but I can get more." She waits for Mark to take the pen, while it's still sitting in her hand, but it's been too many seconds that pass by. Charity glances over towards his direction, and notices that his hand is still lazily waiting for the pen. But he's staring out in the distance. Following his gaze, she knows that he's staring intently at a couple playing in the water. She turns back to him. "Are you thinking about your lady?" The pen is being placed in his hand this time, bringing him back to reality. 

"How did you know?" Mark takes it, and squeezes it. 

"Well," She leans forward and touches her knees together, forming a triangle with her legs, "I can see you looking at them our in the water. What's wrong now?"

Mark does the opposite, and his back touches the back of the beach bench. "You ever been jealous... when you don't have a reason to?"

"Jealousy? Well, that's common. You just have to deal with it, as long as your partner is faithful, then it doesn't matter." 

This time, Mark twists the pen in his fingers. "Yeah," he says, finally putting the tip of the pen to the paper. His mind is at a blank at what to write, so of course he's confused as to why he'd ask for a pen just to wonder. When he did ask for it, he had expected for the pen to just begin writing anything, and then he'd just go from there. But all his mind has on it is Jack. All he can think about is the man he has the pleasure of waking up to with green, fluffy morning hair, and light snores. All he can think about is resting his head in his hand as he listens to the man he loves go on and on about something that he loves beyond measure, or his day. Being dragged into Starbucks only because he knows Jack loves to go there, and only getting a drink as well, just so Jack wouldn't feel by himself. Going with Jack to certain events so he wouldn't feel awkward and alone. Hearing Jack sneeze every once in a while whenever he was around Banana, Matt's cat, when Mark brought him over. 

Unbeknownst to Mark, he's indeed been writing, but his pen has been moving in tune with his thoughts. Each word he's been conjuring up has found a home on the paper. 

"What are you writing?" Charity's voice sounds out of nowhere, and it brings Mark back once again. 

Stopping the pen, Mark looks down at the pages. His eyes scan over the pages, and instantly he knows that he cannot disclose such private information to her. "It was just about my... girlfriend. Just reminiscing." 

"Speaking of her, you always mention her, but have never said her name. What is it?" 

He didn't think he'd get this far with such a lie, and of course coming up with a female name isn't the easiest, but he can't hesitate for too long. "Uh... Amy. Her name is Amy--" He looks around for a quick second before seeing a female in the distance with short hair-- "And with blonde hair just by her shoulders." 

"How old is she?" 

Which age would be more believable? He can't say that she's his age, because that would be too obvious, but she can't be too young, because that'd make him look like he's looking for women younger than he. "22." 

Over-exaggerating a frown, she says, "Isn't that a little young for you?" 

"It's only five years. Nothing too serious," Mark nervously laughs. 

***

"Fuck, why here?" Ken goes to wipe his forehead for the sixth time. He's been complaining about the heat since he and Felix landed here, and even though it gets annoying, it's understandable. "We couldn't come out at night?"

Felix playfully pushes Ken's arm. "It's not as fun at night." Leaving Ken alone, he decides to wrap his arm around Jack's shoulders and pulls him closer. "Plus, Jack wanted to bring his daughter here," he teases into Jack's ear. 

"Oh, _ha ha_ , shut up." Jack just squeezes Mikayla's hand lightly. He honestly did only come here because Mikayla had asked earlier, but that's besides the point. He needed somewhere to take his guests that didn't involve staying in the house. Anything he thought of doing is under the umbrella of staying inside of the cool house, but not everyone wanted to do that. Anyway, it's always boring to have house guests, yet do nothing to entertain them.

Mikayla tugs on her father's hand, and looks up at him until he looks down at her. Now having his attention, she points towards a stand. "What are those?"

Examining the pictures, he can tell that what they sell is a variety of sweet food, rather than meal food. "What exactly are you pointin' to?"

"That round, brown thing." The "round, brown thing" is the only thing out of the pictures that look weird and out-of-place, as ice creams and cakes are too known.

"I don't know--"

Ken interrupts Jack, and answers Mikayla's question, "It's called an elephant ear. They taste really good, if you get one."

"Oh," Is all she says. 

Suddenly, Jack feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Detaching from Mikayla's hand, his own hand is instantly grasping for his device. Finally having it in his hands, he sees that he has a message before unlocking it. He mentally rolls his eyes and smiles, going to reply to said message.

"Who's that? _Mark_?" Felix teases, doing what he can to steal a glance over at Jack's dimly-lit screen.

Quickly snatching his phone away from the line of sight of his friend, he laughs, "Go away!"

"No, he's over there," this comes from Ken. He's pointing over towards a couple far away, laughing together on a bench, secluded from almost everyone else.

Following Ken's pointing, the Irishman can see a man that could be mistaken for Mark from behind. His breath catches in his throat, and he can feel his heart drop. If that's Mark with a female, his minds assumes the worst. It isn't too far-fetched, considering that Mark isn't _gay_. He doesn't want to assume that it's Mark, since they're probably far enough away that it could be a slight mix-up, right? "I's... not him."

The Swede feels a pang of regret for Jack. "Are you... sure?" He can tell how bad Jack doesn't want for it to be Mark, but he can't help but feel that it is.

"Yes, I's not him," Jack says once again, probably a little too snappy. "Why don't we get some elephant ears?" 

Ken and Felix exchange a glance, understanding the situation, and deciding not to pry anymore. Both of them agree in unison, and go for the stand with a short line. 

All four of them begin walking away from the situation, in favor of walking into one with a sweet scent and delicious flavors. Even not being to the stand yet, they all can smell the cinnamon and sugar scent from it, making the elephant ears sound even better. 

All could throw the situation of Mark away easily, but not Jack. It's killing him slowly with the thought of Mark being with someone else, especially the _someone_ being someone he didn't tell Jack he'd be with. The thought is what's putting a hole in his boat, and allowing for curiosity and sadness to flow in. 

By now, they're waiting in the line, but Jack is much too restless to just stand there and wait. Everything in him is telling him to go and just see that that man really isn't Mark, and have all of his questions answered and deleted. He could easily text his boyfriend, but if that was Mark, he could easily lie, and go elsewhere. He'd have to act now, and see for himself. The Irishman taps on Ken's shoulder, instantly whispering what he has to say before Ken can retaliate. 

Ken simply agrees, and watches as Jack leaves his presence the next second. He knows exactly what Jack is going to do, without being told, simply because the bathroom is only a few doors down, and he's going the wrong way. Turning back and making sure that Mikayla is next to both him and Felix, he hopes that Jack gets his closure, and the best outcome. 

On the off chance that the man isn't Mark, how would he explain himself? _'Oh, haha, I thought you were someone else that was cheating, haha, you know, all Asians look the same, y'know, haha'_? What would he even say if it is Mark? _'Oh, hey, Mark. Who is this? I saw you earlier, are you cheating?'_ Either way, he has no plan, and just going off of sheer improvisation. 

Awkwardly, he stops in his tracks at the end of the boardwalk. His heart beat is pounding in his ears, and he can't understand why it's taking so much out of him to just walk over there. The black hair on the man's head has dyed, red ends, and what are the odds? Jack can even see the frames of the glasses that adorn his face whenever he turns his head slightly. There's no doubt that that's Mark, so all Jack can hope for is that the girl is a mere friend and nothing more. 

***

"Yeah, and we came up with something called the bonercast--" Mark's deep laugh interrupts his words-- "that reminds me that we need to bring... it back."

"All you talked about were... dicks?" Charity covers her mouth as she giggles at the thought. 

"Yeah, it's like we pretended to answer phone calls," the redhead makes a phone with his hand, and goes to put it up to his ear. 

"Oh, like a-- oh," She stops, seeing as someone put their hands over Mark's eyes. 

He's still holding up the phone, while his eyes are covered. There's a possibility that he knows who it is, but he still chooses to slowly pull the hands down. Mark doesn't get a chance to look at who it is, before he gets the warm feeling of arms being wrapped around his neck in a hug. 

"Hey, Mark," Jack greets, allowing for his embrace to be forgotten, as he walks around the bench to stand diagonal to his boyfriend, occasionally glancing at the female next to him. 

"I'm sorry, are you Jack?" Charity speaks up. She had heard about Jack in the bonercast stories, and from her point of view, Jack seems to be pretty funny. 

Jack offers a counterfeit smile. "In the flesh--"

Mark cuts off Jack, in favor of changing the direction of the conversation, "Why are you here?"

"Why didn't you say ya were comin' _here_? I asked who you were goin' out with t'day, and you said Ryan and Matt."

Clearing his throat, Mark says calmly, "I'm not obligated to tell you where I go. You don't ned to know where I am."

"Yer _boyfriend_ can't know where ya're? What sense does that make?" Jack knows what could happen if he is to engage in an argument with Mark, and if he raises his voice too much, so he knows to refrain from that. 

Charity widens her eyes for a moment, shocked at what just came out of Jack's mouth. "Boyfriend? I thought you weren't gay?"

Mark feels a light heat across his face, knowing that that simple word is what is going to-- or rather already did-- ruin his whole thing. "Charity, he's not my... I'm not-- he isn't-- we aren't together--" 

Jack fully looks at Charity now, understanding that this is the female Mark had run outside to talk to. If anything, now it all makes sense. His leaving hasn't been to see friends, it's all been to see her. He leaves Jack all happy, and that's his note to leave. 

"You said you weren't gay, and he was just a friend."

"He is!" Mark speaks up quickly. Standing up, he takes both of Jack's hands in his. "Jack, please just go away." His index finger is up towards Charity to ask for a minute. He coaxes Jack to follow him a ways away from the drama-filled bench.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jack just looks down at the sand beneath his feet. "Tha's what you've told her? That ya weren't with me?" 

"Jack, don't be that way, please." He knows what he's done is wrong, but there's no way he can fix it. He never thought that his lies would unravel this way. 

"Why... why don't you want t' claim me?" If he were to cry, this would be the perfect time. But he's not feeling it. He isn't ready to show weakness in this moment. Sadness isn't the dominant thing he's feeling right now, anyway. Anger is taking over the majority of his emotions, but he still feels the need to cry angry tears. 

"No, baby, it's not that. It's just that--"

"That she just has something I don't, right?" Jack retorts, filling his words with sarcasm. "That she's better than me, right? That she looks better than me, right? That all I can do is make you upset, right? That she can make you happy, right?" He doesn't want to her any of those answers, not even Mark's voice. 

"Jack she's not--"

"No," he punctuates anything Mark feels the need to say after that. He's done with this, her, Mark, and relationships at this moment. Snatching his hands back, he tunes out anything else Mark wants to say. All he wants to do is return back to his elephant ears, and enjoy his time here.


	24. The Effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instantly, I'm changing it from 25 to 26. Only because I wanna add some cliff hangers, though. I'm sorry I kept you all waiting for this...

Jack feels a warm, pleasant feeling in his heart as Mark puts his palm over Jack's thigh. He doesn't do such too often, but when he does, it still makes Jack get plentiful butterflies. "Shouldn't ya have both hands on the wheel?" Contrary to his words, he doesn't want Mark to move his hand even an inch too far away.

Laughing, Mark says, "One on the wheel, other on the real."

"That's corny and doesn't make sense, ya dumbass." Each word Jack says is lighthearted. He appreciates the love he gets from Mark, the corny comments, and all of the small gestures. Each one is on a different level of affection, and Jack is in love with the thought of having experienced each one.

The pair had insisted on going out for breakfast this morning before Felix and Ken woke, but even if the others weren't going, they silently promised to bring them back some food, as they'd feel bad if the actions didn't take place. If only their friends had gotten up before 10, would they be accompanying Jack and Mark on their way.

"Denny's or IHOP?" Mark asks quickly, bypassing what Jack had said. They were approaching IHOP, but everyone knows that Mark doesn't do IHOP. He's a Denny's guy, but he has to ask Jack, first, even though Jack just chooses whichever would make Mark happy.

Hesitating, Jack asks, "Which one do you wanna go t'? I don't really care."

And with that, they're going to Denny's.

***

"Hello! Welcome to Denny's. What would you like to drink?" A chipper, female voice says, attracting both males' attention. She's a fairly dark woman, and very beautiful. It can be assumed that she's wearing makeup, because of her well-done eyebrows and long eyelashes, but one must look really deeply, as to how natural she looks. Her cheerfulness didn't seem faked, but in this line of work, it pays to be good at acting. "If you're unsure, I recommend a lemonade, lemme tell you. It goes with everything." 

How many times has Jack been here? He couldn't tell you. Yet he still doesn't know what he wants to drink. He can't order drinks this early. His brain isn't remembering. But if anything, the plain choice that anyone can get almost anywhere is lemonade. He'll have to go with that until Mark gets a drink, and he wants a sip of that. Then he'll ask for that kind of drink. And with that, he orders a lemonade. 

"Uh," Mark drops his menu and looks at the woman. "Raspberry lemonade?" Sounds more of a suggestion, but Jack knows better than anyone that Mark always gets that when he goes there, if not water. 

The lady writes down what's needed, smiles at both men, and starts off. 

Looking back at Jack, Mark intertwines his fingers. Both of them are sitting on opposite sides of the booth, of course, but Mark just wants to sit on the same side to be closer to his boyfriend. "So... what's up?" 

Jack laughs. "Ya act like we don't spend every day t'gether." He leans his elbow onto the table, and rests his chin in his palm. After he says that, the grin that Mark put on during Jack's speaking, falters a bit, but Jack doesn't mention it. He doesn't want to contaminate the time they're spending together by bringing up prior knowledge of events. "Anyway," he diverts his eyes elsewhere, before bringing them back, "When I took Mikayla t' school t'day... they told me that she knows how t' count t' 50, now, 'n' she's the top of her class... so far, but... it's kindergarten."

Now it's Mark's turn to laugh. Although he's proud of his daughter, he doesn't get the " _top of the class_ " thing. What could you do in kindergarten that would make you top of your class? "She get's it from you."

"Are you tryna be funny?" 

"Maybe," smiles a smile that's filled with laughter, but not quite laughing yet. 

Kicking Mark's leg under the table, Jack pretends to be upset. "I can at least count t' 51, don't try me."

"Yeah, well--" 

"Your lemonades," she sits the cups onto the table, interrupting a conversation she didn't know they were having. Should could have known, and simply didn't care to have manners, and just wanted to waste no time, or the opposite. She puts the lemonade down next to Jack, and the raspberry lemonade by Mark. "Right?" She's correct, yes, but it's important to double check, especially if serving people is your in-the-now job. 

Mark confirms that they're correct, but Jack doesn't pay attention to what is being said between the two. When the woman hand her hand around his drink, he instantly noticed the beautiful ring adoring her finger. 

The jewelry seems to be divided into two separate parts, but it's together. It has several small diamonds coating it, refracting small rays of the dim light in the restaurant. But the center of the show is the big rock in the middle, safely secured by four prongs. Two smaller diamonds are next. Bigger than the surrounding ones, though Kelly and Michelle, they are still just as beautiful as the middle. 

More than eager to hear her story, Jack instantly says, "Excuse me." 

She stops her conversation with Mark just a second later, and turns all of her attention to the Irishman. "Yes?"

"If ya don't mind me askin', are you married? Tha's a... really pretty ring." He sees her face light up, and with that, he pays attention what whatever she's about to say with full fascination. 

Her smile spreads wide. "No, not yet, but I'm engaged. We're supposed to get married in a few months." She seems to be the most happiest girl in the world, having talked about her engagement. She stares at her ring, flaring her hand. "He proposed to me in Maui, in front of the restaurant." 

All of the extra details weren't asked about, but more than anything, Jack's willing to give up some of his time to listen. After all, he did ask. "Were they all in on it?" His eyes drift downwards, landing on her name tag. It says that her name is 'Kiana'. After all this time, he hadn't even bothered to know her name. He knows now, but she doesn't know his. Supposedly that's okay and expected, since her customers should know her name.

"Yeah!" She sounds surprised to say it, but happy, nevertheless. "It was so... unexpected. He wears glasses, but didn't wear them that day," she shifts her weight onto her right leg, "And since the restaurant has T.V.s around the place, he said that he couldn't read the text that was on the screen. He asked me to read it for him, and it read 'Kiana, will you marry me?', and I broke down crying, lemme tell you."

Admiration in his eyes, he stares at her as she tells her story of his fantasies. He knew that Mark wasn't gonna propose any time soon, maybe not ever, and it makes Jack somewhat upset. Although what they have now is absolutely perfect, he wishes to marry Mark. He wishes to see both of them in suits. He wishes to actually tell Mark two words, and to tie them together forever. Would he get his last name? Would Mark get Jack's last name? Would they keep their own names? Who knows. It's not like he thinks about changing his name to Sean Fischbach, but it has a better ring to it, literally, than Mark McLoughlin. Or does it? Even then, both of them sound beautiful, and he'd take what he can get. 

"It's been about... a year ago that we got engaged. Weddings take a lot of work, lemme tell you. I've been planning almost everything, and he doesn't because he just wants me happy. But it's not easy, lemme tell you. I have to pick out the food, the decorations, what they're gonna wear, what I wanta wear, the colors, and it's expensive, lemme tell you. I work here, and being a server isn't giving the most money, lemme tell you." She sighs, and picks up her writing pad that both she and Jack forgot she put down. "I wanna talk to you about everything, but I gotta work."

The Irishman's eyed droop, and he picks his head up from his hand. Being enthralled in her story really took his awareness away so much, that he didn't notice the pain his his wrist. Shaking his hand, he can understand her pulling away to finish her job. Maybe she isn't acting after all. "Okay, okay."

"Oh, but wait. What would you want your ring to look like? Well, I mean to get your girl, her ring."

Of course. She figured that Mark and Jack were just friends, going out on a casual outing. Who could blame her, though? So many guys do this, and get overly defensive if even they're accused of being gay by even touching a pink bracelet. 

"I'm actually dating him." Jack lazily points a finger in Mark's direction. "Oh, 'n' somethin' simple... nothin' too flashy, more like a band, but diamonds're always a plus." Subtly, he's throwing hints, and Mark's catching them, he hopes. 

Completely, and in only a matter of a question, Mark was forgotten. He was talking to Kiana, but Jack stole the spotlight completely, leaving Mark in the dark. His show was moved to five A.M. and cancelled in favor of a new one. One with green hair and blue eyes. 

"Oh, lemme tell you, that sounds lovely." Positioning the pen in her hand readily to write, she goes back into work mode, but still has the giddy smile that doesn't plan on leaving any time soon. "Are you ready to order?" 

"Actually, yeah. All we both want is just pancakes and sausages, and two to go." Mark interrupts the stares of the couple, and brings them both back to reality. When he sees Kiana writing, he adds: "please." Probably with a little more attitude than he'd like to admit, but he knows that a tint of it lies there. 

"Should be ready for you in a minute." With that, she leaves without another word. Either Mark's demeanor upset her, or she's just ready to bring food to her customers and leave. Whichever, neither seems to match the mood she rocked proudly a second ago. 

Over-staring at Kiana, Mark subconsciously picks up the small, knife on their table. He has it facing the ceiling, but immediately puts it down when Jack speaks up.

"You might cut yerself. Don't hold it that way," Jack scolds Mark. After watching her leave, Jack decides to use his other hand to rest his head, longingly looking at Mark. Maybe he's making it too obvious, but he doesn't quite see it. 

"Jack," Mark sighs, sliding down in his seat. He can already read the mind of his lover, and they've been through this some times before. Many, many times before. The first being when Mark was naive, and didn't fully want to pursue marriage with Jack.

_Jack eagerly dropped Mark's hand. Instead, he placed both of them on the display glass, and eyes all of the beautiful jewelry locked away. More so, he's looking at the rings that call to him. Plentiful amounts of them are gold, platinum, silver, rose gold, white diamond, and so on. But the silver and platinum is what suited his fancy._

_Plain ones littered the place, while ones with diamonds, stripes, engraves, and colors only sprinkled where the plains do not. All the while, only one caught his eye, and it's almost plain, but has two bands of diamonds horizontally. That's the one he wanted, and he had to leave a mark in Mark's mind that that's the one. That's truly the one._

_Mark crossed the short distance, and loosely put his arm around Jack's waist. "What are you looking at? Specifically?"_

_He pointed at the glass, his finger bent at the tip. "The engagement rings." Most of the jewelry in the case is rings, so that answers that without asking. "They're really pretty."_

_Mark got a bad gut feeling, but asked anyway, "Why? Looking at them, I mean."_

_"'Cause I wanna get married one day," Jack said casually, with hope in his heart that he'd get married before he's 40, at the least. He could marry Mark, but they probably won't make it past two years. Either way, the dream isn't lost._

_The redhead went stiff, and let his arm drop. "To who?"_

_When Jack looked back up to face Mark, he could clearly see the discomfort on his face, and how unsure he was about marriage in a whole. To Jack, it somewhat made him hurt that Mark acted this way. But that's to be expected, right? They only met a few months ago, but Jack's love for him goes much further than a few months. Mark probably hasn't even thought about loving Jack in the future, but that's okay, too. "T' someone, hopefully."_

The second time just the year next, it seemed like Mark forgot marriage even existed. 

_The bed shifts a small bit as Jack threw his weight on it, and sighed._

_Mark noticed the tired expression on Jack's face, and had to ask, "What's wrong? You're tired, baby?"_

_The pet name caused butterflies in Jack's stomach, as he was not used to it, but eventually he will be. "Yeah, but I was only lookin' at some rings." He placed his arm over his eyes. "Couldn't find one that I had liked when I first saw it."_

_"But you don't wear rings. You like rings, now?"_

_Jack sighed loudly, opting to wiggle his way under the covers, and take a sleep. "No, not that kinda ring, Mark."_

_The redhead put his hand in front of his mouth, and sits up. He whispered in a surprised and shocked tone, "A... cock ring--?"_

_He hit Mark's forearm. "No, ye fuck, a wedding ring."_

_The other laughed, and breathed a sigh of relief. "I was gonna say. We're not into that, yet."_

"What?" It's obvious that Jack cannot see that he's giving off signs, but even the polar bears can feel what he's putting off. 

Sighing once again, Mark says, "Jack, in due time, okay?" For a long time, Mark already knew Jack's feelings, without his having to say them. That's why Mark avoids anything with marriage, just to keep Jack from having ideas. It's not like he doesn't wanna marry Jack, but more so that it isn't the right time, yet. He'd rather give it a little more, and then pop the question. At least he knows that Jack won't do it himself, or leave Mark over such a serious thing. 

***

"Ken... that's not right," Felix points out, yet not actually doing anything to stop Ken's actions. he knows that what Ken's doing is wrong, but he understands why he's even attempting to do such. "What if he comes back and catches you?" Felix places both of his hands onto Mark's desk, watching Ken's work. 

Quickly, Ken goes to Google, and searches for websites. "He won't. He's not gonna know it was me." Off the top of his head, he cannot come up with which websites are riddled with unwanted visitors. "And so? He... deserves it." And Ken's right. 

"But why? Ken, how do you even know if that he did anything wrong?" 

He promised Jack that he wouldn't tell anyone else, and that's what he plans to keep, even though he desperately wants to tell Felix. But for now, he'll just let Jack come out and tell Felix when he's ready, since it's not his business to go telling everyone. "He did, and I know it, regardless of what Jack said." Coming to a link, he clicks it. "Why don't you go keep lookout?" 

"This isn't some mission. It's gonna take you four seconds. Just do it fast," Felix says, pushing Ken's shoulder to rush him. The real concern is how Ken got into the computer, anyway. Doesn't he have a password?

"Yeah, but I just gotta copy and paste this, and I'm done. I don't know if they work, but we'll figure it out." 

***

"O--oh, Mark that's unnecessary," Jack laughs, wrapping his arms around Mark's neck. He's being hoisted up, and carried, against his wishes. But that's okay. 

Mark shifts Jack in his arms by bouncing him up a bit, and positioning him correctly bridal style. It's such a short distance to the house, but the little, romantic things always count. That's why he parked on the street, and not the driveway. And even then, he can carry Jack into the house. The last time Mark was even remotely romantic was when he took Jack to to the park, and he put flowers behind his ear. "No, but I do it because I love you." 

"Aren't I heavy?" 

"Nothing I can't handle, baby. You're smaller than me, lemme tell you." Jack weighs much less than Mark, and since he's skinnier, too, that helps even more. But no matter how much Jack weighed, he'd still do his best to hoist him over his shoulder, still. 

Approaching the gate, Jack immediately reaches down to pull the latch, and pushes it open the best he can. Mark would have done it, but that would have ended up with a dropped Jack, or he would have almost fallen. 

" _Lemme tell you_ , that was hard." 

***

Perking his ear, Felix can distantly hear noises downstairs. Mostly a door, and keys, but he isn't too sure. "Ken... I think they're back," he warns, erratically tapping Ken's shoulder and even pushing him. He really doesn't want to be caught. Even though he isn't doing anything bad, he's accompanying, and it feels that he'll be a bad liar and get both of them caught red-handed. 

"Stop it. I heard it. I'm gonna quit now, so don't worry. You just go and see if you can stall them until I get down." 

Without responding, Felix accepts the task, and heads for the door. 

***

"Hey, baby girl," Mark's greeting to Chica makes her wag her tail even more. "You missed me?" He pets her, and she wags her tail frantically. He missed her more than ever while they were gone, even if it was for a few hours. And it's too obvious that his feelings were reciprocated. 

Stretching, Jack responds for Chica, "No, she didn't." After, he doesn't wait for Mark's response, and instantly begins to call for Felix and Ken, but one of the two shows up before he has to do much searching. "What's up?" 

The blond gives a false smile, and breathes to slow down his heartbeat. Just hiding this secret is killing him, and it wants to spill from his mouth the moment he sees the couple in his eyesight. But he can't. 

He can't risk what could possibly happen between Ken and Mark. They're two strong men compared to Jack and Felix, and considering how much Mark can fuck himself over whenever his software loses footage, how would he react when he finds out he probably has to buy a brand new computer? 

"Uh, nothing much. I just finished getting ready, actually," Felix laughs softly, and looks down towards the floor. 

Contrary to Felix's smile, Mark greets him, "Well, we brought you and Ken food. I hope you like breakfast?" 

Confused, Felix looks at Mark. "Who doesn't like breakfast? It depends on what kinda breakfast." 

Mentally smacking himself, Mark adds, "Okay, pancakes and all that. And you know they're like," he makes a circular shape with his hands, and expands them, "this big, so we want 'em to last you." 

"Don't you call those crêpes? Or you mean American pancakes?" 

"American, big, fluffy, cakes made in a pan. And, ya know, sausages, but we're not gonna get into them."

Joining in, Jack whispers, "Or into us."

He didn't hear what Jack had said, so Mark asks, "What?" 

Jack shakes his head, and goes back to Felix. "Where's Ken?" 

A voice comes out of nowhere as Felix is about to answer, "Right here. And in the flesh." prancing down the stairs like a giddy girl, he's happy and neither men that came in can know why, but Felix does. "What's up?"

Mark strides over towards the couch, and sit the bag of food down onto the cushions. Reaching into it, he pulls out a square, black box. He knows that it doesn't belong to either Jack or himself, since he made sure to put theirs at the bottom, so he knows exactly which will go to Ken, without looking. Walking back, he reaches his hand out towards his companion. "Here, we got you guys breakfast." 

Eyeing the box, Ken makes eye contact with Mark, and transfers a dirty look to the other. Both Jack and Felix can feel the awkwardness and elephant making their way into the small space. 

For a few seconds, they just sit there, Mark's eyes drifting to the floor and pulling the food back towards himself. What had he done wrong? 

Hesitantly, Felix leans adjacent to himself, and takes the box from Mark. "Yeah, thank you. I'll take it upstairs," a nervous and forced laugh ensues. 

***

Only hours later did Ken's actions actually take place. But the outcome wasn't exactly as he had expected. 

Forcefully, Mark pulls Jack closer to him, and angrily looks into his eyes. He can read all of the emotions coming from Jack, and right now, he doesn't care for any except one. 

"Mark--" Jack starts, but Mark interrupts his sentence immediately. 

"Shut up," the redhead growls, and roughly grips Jack by his waist. He lifts his boyfriend up, and hoists him onto the counter, instantly running his hands under Jack's shirt. Leaning in, he plants his lips onto Jack's, with his returning Mark's favor. 

But Jack pulls back a few seconds later, and says, "But, Mark, what about Ken and Felix? They're--" Briefly he's interrupted by Mark pulling him closer and towards the edge of the counter-- "right in there. What if they hear us? Plus i's not right... not right now." 

Mark begins to kiss on Jack's neck, with his partner allowing for more space to do so. But before he actually got a "So?" He asks, stopping his task to make eye contact with Jack. "I'm not the one they need to worry about." 

Jack lowers his brows, and turns a frown. He doesn't want to keep pushing the matter, but he'd rather have a bugged Mark than embarrassed guests. "Mark, can we at least go upstairs?" He asks one more time, giving Mark a pleading look. He knows that Mark cannot resist, but he only uses it when Mark was too stubborn to change his mind. 

Sighing, Mark pulls Jack farther forward, and hoists him up on his waist, and allows for Jack to wrap his legs around his waist. Though, he remembers that Felix and Ken aren't the only others here. "Alright, but Mikayla is upstairs." 

The memory that they indeed did own a daughter came back to Jack. How did he forget that Mikayla's here? "Wait, no-- Mark, can we do this later? I really wanna see Mikayla." After Jack says this, he tries his best to free himself from Mark's grip.

Once giving a hard look to his boyfriend, Mark puts him down, though he isn't completely upset at the idea of seeing their child. But they see her every day, and they can easily see her any time after their escapade. "Fine, alright."

***

"Mark, what're you talkin' about?" Jack questions, while closing his daughter's door to her room. He instantly goes for the stairs, not wanting to deal with one of Mark's attitudes in private... at least not again. 

Mark had angrily come out of his room, and immediately went towards the only person he had knowledge of getting to his computer. He knows for a fact that Jack had used his computer some time ago, and very well he knows that Jack is the only one who would use it. 

"You fucking... know what I'm talking about," Mark lowers his tone, as they're by the stairs, and he quickly grabs Jack by his upper arm, pulling him back towards himself. "You're the only one that goes on my computer, so I know that you fucked it all up." He could feel anger going back and forth inside him, but he knew that he couldn't let himself be engulfed in it, as to not hurt Jack again, or make a scene in front of the guests. 

Hesitantly, Jack pulls his arm from Mark, but not fully. Honestly, he doesn't understand what Mark is talking about. "'Re we really gonna argue over a computer?" 

"That's not even all. I know that you're telling them, Jack. And I don't really appreciate that." Mark gives a light laugh, but that's only the illusion to cover the dark swelled in it. 

Jack waits for a second. How did Mark figure out that Ken knew? Did he tell him, when he promised he wouldn't? "How--"

"And I see what you're doing, but they can't protect you forever..." 

Once again, he goes to walk down a few stairs, but he's still pulled back before his foot even touches another one. "Mark... please lemme go." He isn't in the mood for it. First he went from talking about the computer, and now he's sounding like a serial killer warning his victim not to tell the police. "Please." 

_But when has your self control been too effective?_ Unfortunately, Mark obeys, and lets Jack's arm go. A part of him wants to leave it there, but another simply wants to lash out onto Jack, while another never wants to hurt him again. _But when has it been_ \-- And with that, he harshly pushes Jack forward, making his boyfriend lose his balance, and the majority of him feels no remorse as he clenches his fists, and watches his lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also sooo sorry it sounds rushed.


	25. It Wasn't Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Blood and /almost/ death. If that makes you uncomfortable, don't read this chapter.
> 
> If s'mores and juice mixed well, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to contact me on my tumblr: RealBrill  
> Enjoy almost 7,000 words. It was a bitch to write, OKURRT!!

Rushing hurriedly to Jack's side, Felix kneels beside his friend, and does his best to check if he's broken anything. 

Fortunately, Jack isn't worried about anything being broken. All he can focus on was the fact that his lover pushed him down... in front of people. It was bad enough that he hurt him, anyway, but this time he did it in front of the people he spent the most time with. How would they look at Jack, now? Would they think he was weak and lain down for anything? It just completely embarrassed him, and so much that he could feel his face get hotter. But maybe his friends aren't worried about that. 

Ken, inevitably, goes for up the stairs immediately. He doesn't check on Jack, and that's fine. For right now, he doesn't hurt, so getting up to his feet doesn't cost so much. He knows exactly what would happen to Mark is Ken got to him, and he can't let all of this happen inside of his home. God, it's enough that Jack is going through anything. He'd rather no one else be hurt here, or, god forbid, a fight. Hurriedly, he tries to stand in front of Ken, and prevent him from even breathing towards Mark. "Ken, no, please! He's not worth it."

Mark, standing at the top of the stairs stares down at Ken, and doesn't say a word. He's not fazed about Ken. If Ken takes his silence as fear of any kind, he's surely mistaken. As of now, Ken could have a full knife at Mark, and he'd still stand here, waiting for Ken to make a move towards him. He couldn't care less. But a part of him worries about Jack... But he couldn't care less about Jack, either. But maybe he does. 

"Jack he fucking pushed you! Don't protect... him!" Ken tells to Jack, really wanting to bypass him, and get to Mark. Desperately he does. But he doesn't wanna touch Jack, as he might be hurt from his recent escapade. But oh wow, is Mark asking for it, by just... standing there. Mark will not simply hurt his best friend and get away with it. That's not how things work. At least... not in front of him. Nobody will simply hurt his friends. It pains him that it's Mark that has done it, but he doesn't care about that. 

 

***

Unfortunately for Ken, he didn't get to reach Mark. And it's because of Jack. Makes sense, as why would someone want someone they love to get hurt? Either way, Ken has to ask anyway. 

Looking towards Jack, and gripping the steering wheel with his left hand, he asks, "Why, Sean?"

Jack knows exactly what he is asking. "Why, what?"

Sighing, Ken says, "Defend him. He pushed you-- you don't care?"

"Not that," Jack runs his hands down his face, doubling as a cover, just in case tears escape. Thinking about it over and over again gets him in his feelings, "I just... don't wanna see any fightin' and what not. I's not... what friends do."

"I think we can talk a lot about what people should and should not do." Still, even two hours later, Ken still hasn't calmed down. But that makes sense, doesn't it? Why should his anger cease, after his close friend was abused? "How often?" Even though Felix told him about it, even though Felix promised not to, Ken still acts clueless. Clueless, because he wants Jack to feel like the first to tell him. 

Adjusting his seat belt, Jack props his elbow on the windowsill, and stares out the window. "I's the first time." His mouth says once, but his demeanor says many. 

It's way too obvious that Jack has been the victim too often, simply because his actions don't exhibit the ones of someone that's been surprised for the first time. But Ken knows when to take a hint, and simply go along with it. He sighs. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to," he places his hand on Jack's thigh, "just know that I'm always here for you, okay?"

Jack knows that he has a friend in Ken, Felix, Amanda, his fans, and whoever else. But not everyone should know his business inside and out. Unknowingly, he gets angry and upset. Maybe it's at Ken, or maybe it's at himself, but after a few moments of silence, he couldn't stand to be in such close proximity with his friend.

Reaching for the car door handle, Jack forcibly pulls it, and opens the door all too quickly. Getting out, he slams the door, and immediately goes to unlock the door to his and Mark's house. 

He just... needed to be alone. Even with caring people surrounding him, figuratively, he couldn't stand to even see their faces for longer than a moment-- nor text anyone to voice his feelings. It's bad enough that he was forced to show what he goes through... it'd be even worse-- and more embarrassing-- to reach out to someone. And what would that do, anyway? Just so he can hear the same advice he always does? Just so they can ask why he hasn't left yet? Why he's still so caring towards Mark? Just so they can give him advice from an outside opinion, while they have never even been in his situation? 

On his way towards heading for the stairs, he sees Chica resting on the couch, her head on the armrest. She looks up at him, and the two make eye contact for a brief few seconds. For a moment, it seemed like Chica could feel every moment of pain that Jack has ever felt because of Mark, and each glorious moment they had, too. For a moment, it seemed like even a dog knew that Jack deserves better than he's getting. 

***

Mark paces back and forth in his room, running his fingers through his hair and pulling at it every now and then. He didn't remember a lot, but he remembers the fact that he... pushed... his loved one. They-- he would never willingly hurt Jack. He and Mikayla are the most important people he's ever had in his life. But he understands why. He doesn't condone it, but he completely knows why it happened. If anything... the first thing he could do is apologize to his boyfriend. But talk is cheap, and worth nothing. He can run his mouth and apologize each and every time he... slips up, but that means absolute dogshit. Only actions are worth more than talk, and Mark knows that. So, he can apologize, and cry to Jack and tell him how it 'Won't happen again', but that's just it. He can't promise that it won't happen again. 

But for now... he wants to find his lover and comfort him. That's the best he can do for now. 

The first place he wants to check is Jack's recording room. But he didn't get too far towards the room, before hearing soft cries and heaves throughout the otherwise silent home. Unsure of exactly who they're coming from, he follows. Though, he has the strong idea that it's Jack, as it only makes sense. Following the noise, it leads him downstairs towards his living room, and to a man with his face pressed into a dog's coat. Quickly making his way over to Jack, he wants to be over to him before the other even knew Mark had been there. 

Mark sits directly beside his lover, and hugs him from behind. He's able to hug Jack for a full... fourteen seconds, before Jack instantly notices who's holding him near and dearly. 

Jack lets Chica go, and he can feel Mark's hug around his shoulders grow better grip. But no... Jack doesn't want love from said man as of now. Doing his best to wriggle free of Mark's grip, it's almost impossible, combined with Mark's strength, and the fact that Jack feels like all his emotion sucked his own strength away. No matter, he still tries. "Let me go!" He yells, but each time that Mark loses grip somewhere on Jack, he just finds a new place to hold. "Mark, let me--" each second, he simply grows more and more tired, and each second giving in more and more to Mark-- "let me... go," and with 'go' he stops fighting, and falls onto the couch with his side, Mark following suit, while his sobs continue. 

*** 

Jack says to let it go, but Ken just can't. He can only look at Mark with such disgust, both overall, and the morning after. He truly was a soft bear, but he can't sit and rest when his friends get hurt. God... especially Jack. Jack is such a sweet and caring human being, and Ken knows that Jack deserves to live more fruitfully. Hell, even Jack knows that he deserves a better life. Although he can't understand why Jack stays with Mark, he knows that if he ever were in a similar situation, he'd leave. Even if Jack wants for Ken to keep quiet, he will still do everything he can to get Jack to realize how poorly he's living. And that's a promise. 

When Ken sees Mark a few hours later, he can't help but feel useless. Jack wants him to do nothing, but he at least must speak to the abuser right in front of him. He has to.

Walking over to Mark by the counter in the kitchen, he leans on it. All he does is stare, prompting for Mark to make a few sideways glances at him. "I thought you loved Jack." Sounds like it would be a question, but it's a statement-- both he and Mark knows it.

Sighing, Mark waits some seconds before responding, "I do love him-- more than you can imagine."

"Apparently not enough, because I can imagine it-- and it's not enough." Crossing his arms, he never breaks the stare at his "friend". "You don't push someone you love down the stairs." Venom truly pierces his words, though he tries to tone it down... for Jack.

And he's right. No matter how many times you decide to persuade yourself that you love someone after you've hurt them, it'll never be true. You'd never want to see someone you love be hurt. no matter if you're the one doing it, or watching it happen, you would keep your lover out of harm's way. 

Mark simply doesn't respond. He knows some blurs of what he did. But going back and forth with Ken will make nothing better. He regrets what he believes he'd done. He does. But there's nothing he can do about it now. He's hurt. Jack's hurt. Ken's hurt. Everyone's hurt, and it's simply all his fault. Though, no matter how much he regrets his actions, and its domino effect, he can do nothing about it. He knows Jack will forgive him... unfortunately, but Ken will not. He will milk this for as long as possible, and that's something Mark wishes wouldn't happen. Yes, what he did was horrible, he knows, but Ken repeatedly bringing it up forever will make nothing better. 

Mark screws the cap shut on the ice pack he has in his hands. 

Jack had expressed how his lower back hurts, and Mark immediately got up and bade to his will. Anything he can do to make this better is what he'd love to do... even if it meant to simply give his boyfriend an ice pack to soothe the pain. 

He doesn't looks towards Ken. He simply exists out of the first doorway, leaving Ken to whatever Kens do. Heading up the stairs, he notes that Ken is following him. He can't exactly say that Ken is following him, exactly, but rather just coming up the stairs. Nonetheless, he ignores Ken. His main objective is tending to Jack. 

Mark immediately goes to his and Jack's room, opening it, and closing it. He's unsure if Ken is following him, but he still locks the door behind him to not risk anything. Better safe than sorry, yes? 

Jack's lying on his stomach, and he turns to see who exactly entered his room. He knows it's Mark, but he still checks regardless. He turns the other way, as he sees Mark closing in on him, and he knows what's next. He feels the covers being pulled back, and then his shirt is coming up next. He braces for the cold surface to hit his skin, and when it does, he flinches. Not because it hurts-- and oh it does, somewhat-- but because of the sudden opposite in temperatures. 

Mark pulls Jack's shirt back down, and covers him, as well. He hopes that that can at least stop the pain completely, but he may be getting up to do such again in a few more hours. He leaves Jack's side of the bed, and muses over to his, and gets under the warm covers. When he lifts it, Jack groans as the heat he gathered under the cover is now escaping. 

When Mark finally rests on his pillow, he sighs as Jack speaks up. Not because of his voice, but because of what he's said. 

"Ya forgot t' turn the light off."

***

"Felix," Ken whispers. He doesn't wish to wake up his friend if he's sleeping, but he wants to speak to him. "Felix!" He whisper-yells, making the other man shift. 

Groggily, Felix does respond, "What?" His dream was rather pleasant. Sad to see it end. Whatever Ken has to say must be important. 

Ken moves his feet side to side, and adjusts his head that's resting on his arms, that are below his head. He stares up at the ceiling, still allowing the events from earlier rewind, stop, and play several times. "Can you believe that?"

Felix waits a few seconds, thinking back to any events Ken could be speaking about. While sleepy, he can't recall everything immediately, but he eventually reaches into his memories and sees the exact thing his friend is referring to. "No I can't."

"He just pushed him! And Jack told me-- us not to do anything. And you listened to him!" He hisses, but not exactly fully at Felix. The whole thing just boils anger in him, and eventually it's going to flow over if hes not careful. And wow... he doesn't want to be careful. He wants to explode. He wants to take his anger out on Mark. He wants to catch Mark once again by themselves, and let his anger out. It's only right that Mark gets to feel how Jack feels. Honestly... it's only right. 

The blonde can only remember Jack telling Ken to not do anything. But he chooses to not push it. Especially since he knows that he is not match for Mark. What could Felix do? He's a skinny man, similar to Jack. Nothing Felix could do would do anything to the stronger man. He also doesn't want anything to happen to his friend, but there really was nothing he could do. 

"Ken... what was I supposed to do? I'm Jack's size." 

Ken realizes that. he knows that Felix is smaller than Mark... but he still feels compelled to scold him for not standing up for his friend. Even so, he lets it drop. "He's gonna pay."

"No, you heard what Jack said. Ken, leave it alone."

He's gonna pay. He needs Mark to pay... even if it means losing something important to himself...

***

The next evening, Jack can honestly say that he feels better. His back, at least. Still some minor pain, but nothing he can't handle. Of course, he's still embarrassed about the night prior... but he won't allow for that to ruin his day. He can feel a feeling in his gut, and he can tell today will be something to remember. He's unsure of what it could be, but he has that feeling. Good or bad, he's at a loss... but he can feel it. Hopefully it's good. He'd like something good to come to him after all that's been happening over the last few months. But for now... he'd rather spend time with his daughter, and forget anything that happened yesterday. 

Both seated at the counter, Jack scrolls his phone, occasionally stealing glances over towards Mikayla, and her drawing. Albeit childish, it's pretty decent.

"Okay, so! Amber got a puppy for her birthday!" Mikayla exclaims, as if she was the one that had received the animal herself. Obviously she's extremely exuberant about it, because she'd love a puppy for her next birthday. 

Jack sips at his coffee, and when he lowers it, he responds, "Oh? Did she now?"

She swings her legs, and uses her bright, yellow crayon to color a sun in the corner. "Yes! She told me at school." For a few seconds she laughs for no apparent reason. "Can we get a puppy? I like puppies, Jack."

Oh, well now he gets it. "We already have a dog. Chica already lives here."

"No, no, no, no, no, a puppy. Not a doggy."

Chuckling some, he can understand. "Kayla, puppies are the same things as dogs-- doggies. Dogs are just bigger puppies."

Looking at Jack, she questions, "Well why can't she be a smaller?"

"She's bigger because she loves us so much. She's filled with so much love, that she grew extra big."

She nods. She accepts that as an answer. And thank god. Jack doesn't want another dog. He loves Chica, but god, did it get tiring having to take care of a dog. Another dog would be so much work.

Jack sees from the corner of his eye Mikayla swiveling around in her chair, and she jumps down. "Where're you goin'?" The corner of his mouth lifts up into a smirk, and that turns into a smile. He's pretty sure he has an idea.

"To play with the puppy," she picks up a sprint, and searches for their dog, and Jack can no longer see her once she turns the corner. 

He takes another sip of his coffee, and scrolls once more. 

***

When the evening rolled around, Jack had suggested that they all go out onto the patio to simply sit in eachothers' company, sit around the fire pit, and have a drink together. It wasn't the most adventurous thing you could do, but it was enough for them to all sit and relax. Oh, how they all needed to relax... Plus, Ken agreed, but alcohol in his system probably wouldn't be a good combination with built up anger. However, he still agreed. He wouldn't drink so much. Felix simply went with whatever without protest, and that can sit right with Jack. Mark was somewhat opposed... He simply didn't feel comfortable around Ken with drink in his system. Ken's system, not Mark's. Mark couldn't drink, anyway, but sitting and relaxing is well-needed.

"You know what would be good with this?" Felix asks.

Jack turns his head, and looks at the man next to him. "What?" 

"S'mores."

At that, Jack's eyes light up. How could he be so stupid as to have a fire out here, but not have the most important ingredients? How dumb! he loves s'mores, and here they are... without s'mores. But then he realizes that they don't have the said ingredients. "We don't have any, though," he punctuates his sentence with a small laugh. 

"I can go get some," Mark speaks up, making all of the other men look in his direction. "I'm the only one that can't drink-- I can get it."

A fire lights in Ken's eyes. "I'll go with you. There are some thing I want from the store, too."

Jack immediately eyes Ken, and he can already tell what's on his mind. Both Mark and Felix can tell as well, simply exchanging glances with each other. 

"No, I'll go," Jack sits his drink on the ring around the fire pit. "Just text me what you want, and I'll get it. No problem." He stand up, and briefly makes eye contact with Ken. Through the stares, Ken throws daggers, all of which Jack catches. In what world will he allow Ken to be alone with Mark?

***

"We-- we need graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows," Jack recites the obvious ingredients to Mark out loud, getting a laugh from his partner.

"Well duh. I know how to make s'mores." 

"Jus' making sure." He reads each sign to make sure that they don't miss any aisles, and they can get home as soon as possible. 

Ken hadn't texted Jack anything he had wanted, and that only confirms his suspicion of how he only wanted Mark alone. But he's not having that. Imagine if they fight? Imagine if one literally kills the other? Oh god. That's a worst fear of his. 

By instinct, he reaches over and brings Mark's hand into his, and intertwines them. Somehow... he feels more affectionate when he has alcohol in his system. No, he's not drunk, but he has enough in him to feel the effects from it. 

Mark also tugs Jack over towards him, so that they can be closer. He was afraid to be affectionate towards Jack, for fear that he'd reject him. Luckily, right now, he can have his boyfriend near him, and it feels nice. It especially feels nice when Jack lets go of his hand, and instead leans onto him, and wraps his arm around Mark's. It makes his heart have butterflies. 

Although he felt uncomfortable and upset from getting stares from men that looked at them, he tries to let it pass. He's not gonna ruin this moment with Jack by giving homophobes a reaction from him. At least, he will try...

Unfortunately for Mark, Jack lets go from him, and wanders into an aisle. Puzzled, he calls after Jack, following him, "Where are you going?"

"It's graham crackers down this aisle, you doofus, do you read." He makes his way down the space, and eagerly searches for crackers, as the sign says. But it seems he's made it all the way down the aisle and hasn't seen an crackers the sign has said? How?

Jack hears Mark call his name, and he turns around. Seeing his boyfriend at the beginning of the aisle, he rolls his eyes, as he can also see that Mark has all three materials. Convenient, no? 

"They had all of the stuff together. I guess they already knew what was about to go down."

Jack simply nods, and follows his boyfriend. He's so lucky that Mark is the type to come to the store for what he wants, and then leave after. It makes everything so much easier, and time doesn't get wasted searching for items you didn't even come for. Jack is the opposite... but still he has Mark to keep him from wandering off. Thank fuck for that. 

Instead of going into a line, Mark walks over towards self-checkout. God, he couldn't stand it when people had two items and then got in line. Do they not realize what self-checkout is for? Regardless, he begins to scan each item. Please place item in bagging area. Yeah, yeah, the norm. While scanning the marshmallows, Jack is once again leaning into him, and he loves it. Nevertheless, he has to focus on scanning. He finishes scanning them, and then he pulls his wallet out to pay. But when he does, he can't seem to pull out his card fast enough before lifting his head to a voice coming towards their direction... from someone using the checkout next to them.

"Disgusting..."

And Jack looks up to Mark, and hopes that he will have no reaction. He knows that Mark doesn't respond well to homophobic insults thrown at them. Jack hates the comments, too, but he knows that his reacting will help nothing. God, he can just remember their time at the park... 

Luckily for Jack, Mark chooses to get his card from his wallet instead of responding. Even so... Jack can feel angry energy radiating after a few seconds. 

"They're just in public with it. It's fucking Adam and Eve-- not Adam and Steve." The man says, completely above the whisper he thought he did.

"Mark..." Jack warns, but overall doesn't wish to upset Mark more than he can tell was already coming. He simply just lets go of Mark, and offers to take the card. And Mark agrees, and lets him. 

The man next to them finishes and stores the last of his miscellaneous items in his bag. But before he passes by Jack and Mark, he let's one last fuckin faggots slip from him, and then he's gone. 

Jack types in Mark's pin as quickly as he can, and hopes that since the man is gone, Mark will not act out and cause a scene. God, that's the last thing he wants. He simply wants to go home and spend time with his friends before they leave to their respective homes. Lord, can he at least have that. 

The transaction is successful, and Jack decides on himself to grab the bag. He tears the receipt, and pulls at Mark's hand. Mark follows Jack, but snatches his hand away from his boyfriend.

Although Mark hasn't said a word, the energy radiating off of him isn't pleasant, and both men just wish to be home. Hopefully Mark can contain his anger, and won't let it ruin his evening. 

He knows they will encounter bigots, but dealing with such people upsets him to the fullest degree. For the most part, it deals with his childhood, and how homosexuality was taught to him as a terrible sin. The elders would tell him how wrong it is to be bisexual... and how men can't be bisexual-- it's simply you're gay or you're straight. No in between. Only women can be bisexual. They would always tell him how he'd suffer in hell for his lifestyle... and he believed them. Even the people at school would taunt and harass him, even bullying him for it, and so he hid it, truly believing that liking men was purely a sin. He will not admit it, but a small part of him still believes it is a sin, regardless of a bigger part knowing that's it's not. Simply put... it caused a deep seed that sprouts into deep-seeded anger for homophobia, and even homosexuality itself, sometimes.

When they both get to the car, Jack opens Mark's door for him, and quickly goes back over to his side to also get in. Jack sits the bag in the backseat, and then reaches up to fasten his seat belt.

Immediately Mark gets inside of the car, closing his door behind him. The keys are put into the ignition, and he starts the vehicle. At this moment... he didn't even care if he has on a seat belt or not, and Jack decides against telling him to put one on. Hopefully a fatal car accident isn't what his gut was telling him would happen. God, he hopes not.

***

Once back home, Jack was the first inside. He unlocked the door on his own, not wanting to deal with an angry Mark trying to unlock a door. He just needs for Mark to calm himself. He's just lucky that his boyfriend hasn't done anything to take his anger out on him. At least... not yet. 

He wants to sit the bag on the kitchen counter, but he trips. He isn't sure what he trips on, but he ignores it. He still sits the bag down, but can hear Mark laughing from the living room. He expects that from it, but god, isn't he glad that Mark is calming himself.

What he doesn't expect, though, is for Ken to open the sliding door, with anger. 

"Did he just push you?" Ken asks, but his actions prove that it wasn't a regular degular question. 

Jack rushes in front of Ken, and spews out what happened. "No, no, I just tripped. He wasn' even near me when I tripped. Calm."

Stealing a glance at Mark, Ken turns around without another word. Jack knows that Ken doesn't 100% believe him, but he still lets it go. 

A few minutes later, they're all back outside, and enjoying the wonderful s'mores that Felix suggested no more than an hour ago. Ken seems to have calmed down more than Jack expected, but it's better than he wanted. Ken even laughed at some things Mark said, and hasn't given him a grimace since earlier. Even Felix talked more, despite how awkward he truly is. Ken and Felix plan on only spending a few more days here in Los Angeles, and then they're back home. Although both Mark and Jack wishes they could stay longer, the other men have people back home, and careers to attend to. 

Jack picks up his phone to check it quickly, and then he notices the time. 11:43 PM. It's beyond Mikayla's bedtime, and he's positive that if he doesn't go and tuck her in or tell her goodnight, she's going to stay up forever. 

He stands up, stretches, and says, "I'll be back. I have to go 'n' tuck Kayla in." He hears them say brief okays and he proceeds into the house. 

Mark, on the other hand, simply wants to refill his cup of juice. It doesn't mix well with s'mores... but again, what does? A few seconds after Jack gets up, he does as well. Sliding the door open, he strides over towards the refrigerator, and opens that next. But when he sits his glass down on the counter-- and damn that-- he drops it onto the floor. The aftermath involves so many shards of glass in every which direction.

"Oh my fucking God," he curses, and not only to himself, but to everyone. Another glass kitchen utensil broken... For what reason did this need to happen? 

He instinctively looks around the kitchen for the broom and dustpan, and he cannot see it in the usual spot, next to the entrance that leads to another backroom. Groaning, he decides to check in the living area, and to no avail. When he turns around to check once more in the kitchen, a familiar hand is holding both of them out towards him. 

"Are you looking for these?" Ken. 

Despite all of the laughs Ken and Mark shared, and the smiles exchanged outside, that obviously seemed like an act, now. His true feelings masked by a friendly grin. Ken's face still has a permanent grimace, one filled with revenge and grief. 

Without giving Ken much more attention, he simply thanks him for the tools, and he slides past him, and back into the kitchen. Quickly he wants to clean up his mess, because he doesn't want anyone to get hurt and definitely not to get away from Ken... 

Behind Mark, Ken leans onto the counter that's directly placed behind his friend. He still will not let Mark get off with hurting his best friend. "You like hurting the people you love?"

Mark hears exactly what Ken is saying, but he acts like he doesn't. He truly wants no parts of this. Like he's said before: They will never move past this if Ken always keeps bringing this up. He feels so awful about it, truly, he does. But Ken will do nothing but make it all worse.

He feels a firm push from behind, but he still tries to keep his balance, as the glass is still splayed onto the floor.

"I said," Ken pushes Mark again, "You like hurting the people you love?"

Mark still keeps forward, and sweeps up any glass he might have missed. "You're not making anything better by trying to demonize me," is all he says.

Of course Ken is demonizing Mark. Mark is the one who has been doing devilish acts, so where's the lie? 

"You're not making anything better by putting your hands on Jack, but here we are. You mad the first move, and now you're facing the consequences. You brought this upon yourself." He pushes Mark another time, and even harder this time to make him fall. 

Luckily for Mark, he already has all of the glass swept, and he doesn't fall into any shards, hopefully to Ken's dismay. He gets back up, and then turns around to stare at Ken directly. Although he isn't afraid of Ken, he'd rather not be around him if Ken's upset. 

"Look, Ken, I'd really appreciate--" he's interrupted by another hard push, but to his chest this time. The entire time he really didn't want to start anything with one of his close friends, especially since Ken wants a reaction from him. 

"He's told me about how after someone hates on you for being gay, you always take it out on him. I couldn't care less about what you'd appreciate." Truly, he's voiced everyone's opinion with this. 

Mark can't believe what he's hearing. Is Ken really trying to say that Mark would hurt Jack over someone else's actions? It's one thing to harass him because of pushing Jack down the stairs, but to lie as if Mark would routinely hurt Jack? That's invigorating. "I would never fucking hurt him because of some asshole and what they have to say." He steps closer to Ken, and says, "Now you're just lying to make your point better. I don't hurt Jack on a daily basis." And it's true. People are homophobic on a daily basis. 

Fed up, Ken is telling off information that Jack specifically wanted him to keep private. But in his fit of anger, he can't keep it to himself anymore. "Then explain the reason why he had a black eye?"

"I've never given Jack a black eye, you dumb fuck." 

"Oh, he just 'ran into a door', huh? He hit himself, huh?" He makes gestures with his hands, exaggerating the situation. "Oh, wait, I bet Mikayla did it! I bet that's what happened!" He punctuates his sentence by pushing Mark's head. 

Pressing his lips into a line, Mark cannot just sit here and listen to Ken accuse him of lies. Or have him push him any more times. "You better stop pushing me, Ken." He barely chuckles, to finish off. Although he doesn't wish for his anger to get the best of him, it's going to go over. God, he wishes it wouldn't. 

Instead of giving Ken more of his time, he instead comes up with some-- any reason to leave, and decides on seeing his daughter and Jack. But he doesn't make it our of the first doorway before Ken shoves him once more. And that's it. 

"Or what? You're gonna give me a black eye, too? I'm not Jack. I'm not scared of you, Mark." 

Mark's eyes flash over towards the knives resting on the counter, and then towards the floor.

He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

Rubbing his eyes, he simply can't hide his anger. It completely puts him in a different mindset, and he can't bear it. He can't stand being angry... but it's out of his control. And Ken brought it upon himself. 

Ken had seen how Mark's head shifted, ever so slightly, and saw the knives placed in the knife rack. Still, Ken shows no fear. He's never been afraid of Mark, and will never be. 

"Oh, what you're gonna stab me? I fucking dare you."

*** 

"... And then Mulan taught the kids about--" he looks up to see if he should continue, or stop, judging by if she's asleep or not-- "... the end." Jack closes the book he finishes reading to his daughter. How cliche, but what can you do? If reading to Mikayla makes her go to sleep, he's going to do it. He's unsure if it's just because his voice is boring, or she simply needs a story to go to sleep, but either way it works. Every single time. 

Sitting up, he stretches for the second time that night. Even though it was a short book, he still feels tired after sitting in one position for over 30 minutes. 

He takes the top of the cover into his hands, and effectively covers Mikayla, and tucks her in. Another cliche. Well, he doesn't do this one as often, but hey. 

He exits the room, making sure to close the door softly, and when he doesn't hear her call for him from the outside of the door, he safely makes his way towards the stairs, going down them. he pauses for a second, distracted by his phone. Distinctly, he can hear sounds coming from the kitchen, but pays them no mind. He scrolls down his twitter timeline, and can see some tweets that Felix posted in response to Ethan Klein. Laughing, he responds, inserting himself into their conversation. But after he laughs, all sounds from the kitchen ceases. Still, no rush. 

Slowly edging down the stairs, he reads the replies from other people to his tweet, several seconds after he sent it. God, the internet is funny. Nonetheless, he stuffs his phone back into his back pocket, and makes a B-line for the kitchen. But the sight before him makes his heart stop more than anything he could've ever imagined. 

"Oh my god!" He cries, out of pure fear and disbelief. The sheer sight before him is something you can only imagine in a murder documentary or movie. 

Staring at his friend with a stained shirt, and barely moving, makes him freeze, unable to move or take any action. His own boyfriend holds a sharp, silver weapon, and it makes him utterly sick to his stomach. When Mark draws it from his friend's seemingly lifeless body, positioned on the floor, one last time, Jack can feel his heart literally stopping, and he now feels like he is the one dying.

When Jack's cry reaches Mark's ears, he looks to his right, and he can't even fathom his emotions. Any and all sense of anger disperses from him, and he drops the knife from his bloody hands. He couldn't have... he didn't. He couldn't have stooped so low. He simply couldn't have done anything so vile. He can't even remember himself snapping to cause this. He didn't. He simply couldn't have. 

Mark looks down at his hands, to Ken, and then finally to Jack. Standing up, he holds up his hands, to calm the deer in front of him. "Jack, please, I didn't do it--"

Breaking out of his trance, Jack backs up from the monster trying to approach him, and rushes to get back up the stairs. Even though his entire being is filled with horror that's rapidly overflowing inside of him, and it's telling him to leave and get out, he still feels compelled to hide inside of his daughter's room, and make sure she isn't left to end up with the same fate. 

Mark follows Jack, albeit not following him up the stairs, and calls after him, "Jack, wait! I'm not going to hurt you!"

Jack ignores any and all words coming from the murderer's mouth, quickly getting to Mikayla's room. Once inside, he slams the door, waking up the sleeping girl. 

Confused and now somewhat afraid, Mikayla sits up, and asks, "What's wrong?" 

With his heart knocking on his chest, and his mind turned to utter jello, he lets tears fall from his eyes while he fumbles with his phone. He sits in the bed with the girl, and hugs her close to him, breathing heavily. Through it all, he still manages to dial the three digit number, and presses it to his ear. 

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my GAH!! That escalated quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it this far! :) If you wanna talk to me, I'm RealBrill on Tumblr. :')


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